


Something New

by FireworkArcanist, LadyLampblack, Liliflower137, phantomthief_fee



Series: Eternal Stream AU [1]
Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half-Life, Half-Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, Chester is having a bad time, Eternal Stream AU, Game Mechanics Horror, Light Psychological Horror, Main Character is a jackass but Gets Better, Malrey, Minor Body Horror, Nerdy References, Possession, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, Trapped Inside a Video Game, Twitch - Freeform, We love fanart, amnesia craving, discount plasmids, gmod errors, hlvrai au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 69,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24511300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireworkArcanist/pseuds/FireworkArcanist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLampblack/pseuds/LadyLampblack, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liliflower137/pseuds/Liliflower137, https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomthief_fee/pseuds/phantomthief_fee
Summary: Gordon wasn't sad about his situation, per se. He was a bit lonely, sure, but he wasn't sad.This was what he was created to do, after all, he was made to lend his body to the player, so that was what he did.But this time, was different.This time the player was actually there.-FANART IS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED <3-
Relationships: Benrey (Half-Life)/Original Character(s)
Series: Eternal Stream AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863709
Comments: 411
Kudos: 367
Collections: Eternal Stream HLVRAI AU





	1. It would be fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other fics in this AU! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Eternal_Stream

Gordon wasn't _sad_ about his situation, per se. He was a bit lonely, sure. Being surrounded by people that you can’t talk to will do that, but he wasn't sad. This was his purpose, what he’d been made to do. He existed to lend his body to the player, and that's what he did. He wasn't sure exactly _why_ he was conscious. He could have just as easily been an empty vessel, a puppet, but here he was. Thinking, feeling, alive.

His current pilot was acting rather strangely. He didn't think much of it at first, they all had little quirks, different playstyles, but this one...It was very _new_.

He spoke, for one. And the others...Responded. If he wasn't a bit frightened by the experience, Gordon would be excited! Maybe they thought the way that he did! Maybe they weren't just bland lines of code and dialogue like he'd believed all this time. Maybe he wasn't the only one! 

And he was so...Articulate with his hands and fingers. The others only picked things up, pulled the trigger of a gun. Nothing fancy, never anything more than the simplest of movements. His latest pilot fidgeted with his hands, waved at and patted the shoulders of the NPCs. He was so lively!

Something had to have changed, but what?

There was something so visceral and new to the way this pilot acted. They seemed so much more _present_ in the world than the other pilots. And they _talked_. Was that their voice coming out or his own? It was hard to tell. Gordon had never actually heard his voice before, so he didn’t really know what it was supposed to sound like. However, it felt… right somehow. 

The voice coming out of his mouth felt right. Like this was how he was _supposed_ to sound. He couldn’t help but want to use the voice himself. The thought of speaking, of articulating his own thoughts excited him. It was a thrilling thought.

The NPCs were acting strangely too. Beyond actually responding. They weren’t following the roles they usually did. Gordon had never seen Dr. Coomer in the locker room before. They acted almost broken, their dialogue triggering at the wrong times and repeating, interrupting themselves. At least one of them, anyway. He didn’t recognize the guard either. Well, he recognized the _model_ that was being used, but unless “Benrey” was some strange misspelling of Barney, he wasn’t sure who the guard was. 

Something strange had to be going on. Gordon didn’t think he minded, though. As strange as it was, the change was exciting. Exciting, but frightening all the same. Gordon was very used to having set rules and a set path. He was admittedly afraid of what was going to happen on this run. But at this point, wasn’t anything better than just the same story again? 

It would be fine. It was always fine.

Except it wasn’t.

Soon enough it became clear _why_ Gordon’s pilot was acting so differently. His pilot was physically trapped in the game. It was unclear how this had happened exactly, but it seemed like the Resonance Cascade might be behind it. But if that was the case, why had it never happened before? What made this instance so special? The other characters were acting strangely _before_ the cascade. Was it related? Gordon wanted to ask the others about it, but he knew he couldn’t. 

The guard seemed to know something. The guard had changed after Gordon’s pilot (His name was Chester. That was what the pilot had said when he’d broken down. His name was Chester and he worked at 7/11. He had an identity and Gordon wasn’t about to take it from him.) had broken down. He’d stopped messing around and seemed to grow concerned about Chester. Gordon wanted to ask the guard why he’d changed, wanted to ask what the guard knew. 

Chester had asked at one point, although the guard remained evasive. So there weren’t really answers to be had. That didn’t make Gordon feel any better.

Gordon had so many questions he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t. He didn’t have a voice of his own, he never had. In all his years of being a helpless puppet, he’d never felt as helpless as he did now. He was worried about his pilot for the first time in his life. Because now his pilot was stuck in the game with him. His pilot could get injured. His pilot could **die**.

**_Chester could die._ **

And that thought scared Gordon more than anything. 

Gordon didn’t even _know_ Chester. He was a stranger, and yet...The concept of a real and permanent death was...terrifying. He’d never been faced with a permanent death before. What would happen if his pilot died? Would he just go back to the beginning, the story repeating like it always had? Or would it just... end?

He’d rather never know. But it seemed more and more likely by the minute, Chester didn’t seem like he was...the most competent player in the world. He was a good shot but struggled with simple things like ladders. It was honestly pretty funny to watch. Gordon found himself getting more and more attached despite himself. He wished he could just...talk to him.

From what he could see, Chester seemed a lot like him. 

Lonely...Isolated...

If they could talk, Gordon was sure they would be friends. He’d finally have a friend. Someone to talk to him. But...No...It would never work out. Eventually, Chester would escape from the game and then Gordon would be all by himself again. It wasn’t Chester’s fault. Gordon wasn’t about to hold it against him. 

Gordon was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of something clattering to the floor at his feet. While his pilot was distracted by a conversation he was having with the others, Gordon could just barely make out a grenade out of the corner of their eye. His heart stopped. Chester hadn’t noticed the grenade. It was going to explode. And soon.

“Grenade!” He shouted, despite not expecting Chester to hear him. 

To his surprise, Chester was immediately wrenched from his conversation, noticing the grenade and calling out a similar warning to the others before diving for cover. 

“Shiiiit, I almost didn’t notice that! Is everyone alright?” The pilot asked the rest of the Science Team. 

Had...Had he heard him? Had he really heard him? The only way to tell was through further experimentation. He was a scientist after all. 

“...Hello?” He started hesitantly “I’m not crazy, am I? You can hear me?”

“You guys hear that? Someone talking to me? Or did some chucklefuck mediashare a movie?” The last line was muttered under his breath as the pilot checked a weird device that hadn’t been in the game before. The text on it scrolled past too fast for Gordon to process. Chester seemed to conclude that whatever he’d said wasn’t the case. The other members of their little group looked at Chester, confused. 

“You feelin’ alright, bro?” The guard asked with a small laugh. “Didn’t think you hit your head **that** hard.”

“You don’t have a concussion, do you, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asked, looking worried.  
  
“No!” Chester shouts, getting a tad defensive. “I- I swear I heard something just now.” 

The others just gave him blank looks, indicating that they hadn't heard anything at all.

Chester scratched at their shared beard in confusion. “... I think I’m just going crazy. You guys are getting to me.”

Gordon felt…Well, maybe disappointed would be accurate. He also felt slightly offended. Chester didn’t even know he was there... Even when he spoke up. This was _his_ body and he didn’t even know he was there. Part of him wanted to lash out.

“Listen to me, dammit!” Gordon snapped at Chester, who looked around in alarm. “I’m _here!_ You heard me!”

“There it is again! You guys sure you can’t hear it?”

“I don’t hear anything, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer replied brightly. “Other than your voice, that is!”

“That’s the thing, it’s _my_ voice that’s talking to me. Me to me, y’know? Like a conscience but angry for some reason?”

“Watch out, Gordo’s going crazy,” the guard warned in a bland tone.

“Could you be serious for five seconds?” It was Chester’s turn to snap now, but he sounded more frustrated than genuinely angry. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m totally serious.” The guard grinned. 

In response, Chester made a growling noise and raked his hands down his cheeks. “I seriously doubt that!”

“HELLO GOR- Gordon, are you certain you’re well? You keep talking nonsense. What is a ‘mediashare’ and why would someone have sent a movie through it?” Dr. Coomer probed, having elected to get right up in Chester’s face to look him in the eye.

Chester took a step back, “For the last time my name isn’t-” Chester stopped himself in a sigh, giving up before he even finished the sentence. He took a deep breath before muttering, “Right, right, AIs. Hard-coded reactions. I knew I should have added a name input feature too…”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing, nothing, just trying to figure out this… head voice.”

“Perhaps it’s a conscience,” Bubby suggested.

“I’m not!” Gordon insisted, frustrated. 

“It’s not a conscience,” Chester deadpanned. “I need to figure this out before it really does drive me crazy.” 

Gordon was seething, but he wasn’t exactly making progress here. He’d never spoken to a person before. He didn’t know what he was doing. Was he doing something wrong? Maybe he should just leave well enough alone...Gordon went quiet, deciding not to try again, and just let the game pan out.


	2. What's a stream?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chester and Gordon finally sit down and talk things out

He changed his mind when they stopped for the night, though. Everything went strangely quiet, almost blissfully so. Perhaps this was a better time to speak up.

“....Hello?” He asked quietly, hesitant and small. Chester sat up and looked around, still confused. 

“Don’t...Don’t bother,” Gordon continued, “You won’t find me. I’m… in your head.”

“That is… very disconcerting,” Chester muttered in response.  
  
“Yeah...I suppose it is. Well, I’m not exactly in your head, you’re in _my_ body. It’s… like a possession thing, you get it?” Chester took a long, shaky, deep breath  
  
“What... are you exactly?” Chester asked slowly. 

“I’m Gordon Freeman,” Gordon replied.

“Seriously?” Chester all but scoffed. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“I’m not!” Gordon’s voice came a bit sharper than he’d intended, causing Chester to jump a little. 

“Sorry.” Gordon lowered his voice, he paused, realizing something “You said that like you knew who I was..?”

“Of course I know who you are!” Chester said. “Even people who haven’t played your game know your name!” His voice was full of enthusiasm and excitement now, which honestly felt pretty good for Gordon. He felt like he might tear up a bit, people... People knew him. Something about that thought was so surreal. He’s spent his whole life trapped in his own body, being controlled, never speaking to a single person, and yet people still knew who he was.

“Wait, hold on. I’m in your body?” Chester asked. That seemed to have just hit him. 

“Yes.”

“How...How does that work?”

“I don’t know. I just know that when players play this game, they pilot my body,” Gordon explained. “Your situation is new, though. And you’re the first person who’s been able to hear me.”

Chester was silent for a long time. 

“That sounds awful,” he finally said. His voice was quiet. He sounded almost apologetic. 

“Am I doing alright?” Gordon asked. “I’ve never actually... talked to anyone before, I don’t know if I’m doing it right,” he admitted.

“Oh, uh, yeah, you’re doing fine,” Chester assured him. “I mean, I don’t know if it’s possible to do it wrong.” He stopped and looked back at where the guard was sleeping. “Actually, nevermind. Still, you’re doing fine.”

Gordon thanked him, feeling relieved. “You’re the first one to actually speak while playing. No one’s done that before,” he continued “...A lot of things are different on this run, actually.”

“I get that,” Chester sighed heavily, leaning back on his hands. “Things being different, I mean.”  
  
“Have you... played before?” Gordon asked. 

“This game?” Chester gestured around. “Yeah. But this _is_ the first time I’ve done it like this.”

“Like this?” Gordon echoed. 

“Well, um...” Chester fidgeted a bit. “This run was supposed to be me showing off some AI’s I programmed. Which is why the AI’s are different this time around. I made them.”  
  
“No wonder they’ve been acting so strange!” Gordon exclaimed. That explained at least part of their strange situation. That just left why Chester was trapped here, and how he would get out. 

“Yeah. I didn’t do a great job, did I?” Chester laughed, rubbing the back of his head.

“You did fine,” Gordon said, although his mind was distracted. “How...How are you going to get out? How did you become trapped here?”

“I...I dunno, buddy.” Chester brought up that strange device again, scrolling through the lines of text. A lot of the messages were about the fact that Chester seemed to be talking to himself. He screwed up his face before looking at the helmet he’d set on the ground. “Shut up, chat.”

“I guess they can’t hear me.” Gordon’s voice took on a hint of disappointment. "Um, what are they?" He asked, trying to change the subject a bit.

“I’m doing a stream. They’re watching it,” Chester muttered as he frowned and continued scrolling. 

“What’s a stream?”

“Oof, how do I explain this?” Chester put away the strange device that showed him the ‘chat’. “Basically, I’m playing this game, recording it, and broadcasting it to other people.” 

"And people watch it? All we're doing is sitting here."

“I’m not normally stuck in the game like this.” Chester couldn’t help but laugh. “But yeah, people tune in to watch me play games.”

“That’s so strange,” Gordon said.

“I mean, you could also think of it as people tuning in to watch _you_ , you know.” Gordon could feel Chester smile, which made his face feel hot. 

“It sounds really nice when you put it that way...” Gordon replied.

“I’m glad.” Chester’s smile widened.  
  
“You were looking at the helmet earlier, is that how they see us?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s where the camera is.” Chester patted the helmet. “In the real world, this headset is how I’m supposed to be able to see the game. And it’s how the viewers see the game too.”

"... Do you know how the guard ties into all of this? I don't remember passports being mentioned at all.”

“I’ve got no clue what Benrey’s deal is,” Chester groaned quietly, looking back at the guard. “It seems like he just wants to fuck with me. He’s not one of the AI’s, that’s for sure. He even calls me my real name sometimes.”  
  
The guard in question opened one eye, looking over at them. Chester hadn’t noticed, although Gordon had.

“He’s awake,” Gordon announced. 

“Huh?”

“The guard’s awake.”

Chester’s head immediately snapped around to face the guard. 

The guard grinned, waving. “Hey.”

Chester awkwardly waved back. “Uh...Can I help you?”

“Who ya talkin’ to?” The guard asked, shifting so that he was laying on his stomach and holding his head in his hands. 

“The real Gordon,” Chester replied. “Apparently he lives in my head now?”

The guard blinked, clearly not having expected this answer. “Shit. Seriously?”

“Yeah.”  
  
“That the voice you were hearing in your head earlier? _That’s_ the real Gordon Freeman?”

“Yep.” 

The guard kept staring, then flopped onto his back. “This shit’s crazy, bro.”  
  
“..He knows me?” Gordon asked. “I’ve never met him before... How does he know me?”

“You’re the main character of one of the most influential video games in the history of games,” Chester explained quietly, causing Benery to look over at Chester with a single beady eye. 

“But...He’s from the game, isn’t he? He can’t know me from that..” Gordon questioned. Chester just shrugged.

“If Gordon’s in your head, why are you talking out loud?” Benery spoke up, making Chester jump since he hadn’t noticed that the guard was listening still.  
  
“I... Don’t really know,” Chester admitted.  
  
“I bet your chat has been calling you crazy all night.” 

Chester gave him a look. “Why are you so nonchalant about the chat thing? The others keep looking at me like I’m crazy.”

“You really haven’t realized yet? I thought I was being obvious.”

“Not really? Obvious about what exactly?”

The look Benery gave Chester would have been scorching had it been an angry sun.  
  
“I gotta spell it out for you? Really? I’m stuck too, dumbass.” 

“Stuck?”

“In the game. Are you seriously that oblivious?”  
  
“You’re fucking with me.”

“Why would I fuck with you about that?” Benrey demanded, sounding more than a bit hurt. “That’s a pretty serious thing to lie about to someone who’s going through the same thing.”  
  
“You’ve done nothing but fuck with me the entire time I’ve been here!”

Benery shook his head and scoffed. “Whatever, man. Streaming’s cringe, anyways.”

“It’s not!” Chester protested. He pulled out his chat tool, scowling. The entire chat was spamming the word cringe now, typical, not even taking his side. Gordon honestly couldn't help but feel bad. 

"Feelin' the love from everyone. Really. Thanks," Chester snarked quietly. He turned away from Benery and hugged his knees to his chest. 

"...Have you tried asking them for help or anything?" Gordon suggested. "They're out in the real world, maybe they can do something?"

"Most of them think this is some sort of act. Not sure what they could do if they did believe me, though,” Chester continued to stare at the scrolling text. "I've never had this many viewers at once before..." He commented. Gordon boggled at the number himself. "It's usually only about 150 at most..." The number was climbing up to nearly 500 now

"We're not even doing anything!" Gordon exclaimed, confused. "What's so interesting about us just sitting around?"

“They probably think you’re doing a bit,” Benrey said. “If we weren’t, y’know, trapped in a game I’d be pretty entertained too.”

Chester groaned, running his hands through his hair. He looked directly at the headset on the floor. "You guys do realize there's no way I could afford to hire actors to pull something like this off?"

“It’s easier to believe than what’s actually going on.” For once, Benrey sounded serious. His voice was solemn.

"...Chester, maybe he **is** telling the truth?" Gordon suggested.

"He's not," Chester muttered. "There's no way someone else is as unlucky as me. He's just a delusional AI, like the rest of them."

“Whatever, dude,” Benrey muttered darkly, laying down and turning his back to Chester. He almost sounded hurt.

Gordon felt a twinge of guilt. It wasn't his. "I'm… sorry, Benery, I just… god, I don't want anyone else trapped like I am, y'know?"

Benery looked back at Chester and Gordon again with a glare. "... Sure, whatever."

Chester sighed, laying down himself, turning the headset away so it was looking the other direction. He didn’t want his viewers watching him sleep.

"Night, everyone,” he called before he curled up on his side.

“Goodnight Gordon!” Dr. Coomer replies cheerily.

Gordon could feel that Chester was so… _so_ tired.


	3. You missed out on Bioshock, man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chester and Gordon meet face to face

_Chester finds himself dreaming of looking in a mirror._ _He waves at it, it waves back. He stands to move closer, the figure in the mirror remains sitting_

_The two stare at each other a moment longer_

_"...Gordon?" Chester asks._ _His reflection nods, twirling the long hair tied back into the ponytail around his fingers._

_"So is this... Sleeping?" The reflection asks._

_"Have you never slept before?"_

_Gordon shakes his head, "The game just turns off._ _Saves me the trouble of, uh, finding a safe place to rest, I suppose.”_

_Chester feels horrible for the poor guy..._

_“I’m...I’m sorry,” he says, grimacing._

_“What for?” Gordon asks, tilting his head to the side in confusion._

_“For this. For all of this.” Chester gestures around himself. “For hijacking your body, for fucking with the game.”_

_“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Gordon replies, and his earnestness makes Chester feel even worse._

_“But it sucks you’re stuck like this,” Chester insists. “It sucks that you don’t have any agency!”_

_“It’s my life.” Gordon shrugs. There’s a grim acceptance in his voice._

_“But it shouldn’t be! You’re sapient!”_

_“If anything, you’re helping me,” Gordon insists right back. “I’ve felt and seen so many new things since you showed up!”_

_“....Really?” Chester’s voice is quiet, unsure._

_“Really!” Gordon’s whole face lights up. “I’m glad I met you!”_

_Chester can’t help but smile. He still feels bad that Gordon is in this situation to begin with, but it feels good to know that Gordon is happy to have him around._

_“Well, I’m glad I met you too,” he says. “You seem like a cool guy, Gordon.”_

_Gordon smiles, blushing a little, it’s like he's never been complimented before._ _  
_ _  
_ _...He probably hasn’t has he?_

 _This makes Chester feel even worse for Gordon. That’s it. He’s getting Gordon out with him._ _He’s not sure how he’ll do it, but he’ll find a way._ _  
_ _  
_ _“You’re... an AI right? Like the rest of them?”_ _He asks._

_“I guess, yeah.” Gordon nods._

_“Fantastic,” Chester grins. “I’m going to get you out of here.”_

_Gordon blinks. For a moment, he says nothing. He’s sure he heard incorrectly._

_“You okay?” Chester asks._

_“You mean it?” Gordon seems on the verge of tears._

_“Of course!” Chester immediately answers. “I’m going to get everyone out!”_ _  
_ _  
_ _Tears stream down Gordon’s face “But...But how?”_

_“I...Don’t know,” Chester admits, his face briefly falling. “But! I’m going to do it! I’m going to get all of you out!” He puts his hands on his hips triumphantly._

_Gordon lets out an involuntary laugh, mostly due to how adorable Chesters looks. It seems the real Chester is a rather small man. Gordon just wants to pick him up and hug him._ _He places a hand on the mirror, it is a dream after all. Maybe he can reach him._ _The smooth surface offers no give, just as cold and unforgiving as real glass. He finds himself disappointed at this development._

_“You’re very kind,” Gordon says, smiling softly._

_“Oh, uh, well...” Chester laughs, rubbing the back of his head. “Well, I try. Thanks.”_ _He places a hand against the glass as well._ _His greyish hazel eyes meet Gordon's as he rests his temple on the unrelenting pane, thick brows sliding up in a worried tilt._ _  
_ _  
_ _“Are dreams usually like this?” Gordon asks._ _  
_ _  
_ _“Mine are usually less... empty than this one._ _If I even remember them._ _”_ _Chester shrugs slightly. “I’ve had some really weird ones, though. Dreams can get really crazy.”_

_“Crazy? In what way?”_

_“Well, sometimes people dream about their teeth falling out, falling in general, showing up to school or work naked.” Chester lists off examples, counting on his fingers the different ones._

_“That seems awful.” Gordon cringes. “Why do you dream about things like that?”_

_“It’s a whole subconscious brain thing. I dunno.”_

_Gordon shakes his head. Humans are so strange._

_“So...Is this what you really look like?” He asks, deciding to change the subject._ _Gordon looks the man up and down. He does indeed look a lot like him, but he’s much shorter and thinner._ _He looks young, but that may just be because of his small stature and slim form._

_Chester looks down at himself. “Yup, this is the real me.”_

_Chester snorts to himself for some reason before mumbling under his breath. Something about sonics? Weird. The smaller man scratches at the scraggly hairs on his chin. "I've… never read the Half-Life Wiki, so, uh… how-how old are you?"_

_"Is that what the game is called?" Gordon asks. "I'm 27, I think..." He sounds a little unsure._

_"Huh. That makes us the same age, then."_

_Gordon brightens up._ _"Hey, something we have in common!" He cheers, knocking on the glass._ _Chester can’t help but smile back._ _“Where did you go to school?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“I uh...Didn’t exactly graduate,” Chester says, a little embarrassed. “I dropped out pretty early. I just went to a local community college, still stuck with the debt though...”_

 _“What debt?” Gordon probes, visibly confused. Chester fidgets nervously. “Well, um… student loans, y’know?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _Gordon doesn’t look any less confused._ _  
_ _  
_ _“Right this game took place...God, decades ago.” Chester realizes._ _“Or rather, it was made then. And it had a positive outlook on the future despite the apocalypse, I think.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Wait, what year is it?”_

 _“For me, it’s uhhhh… 2020? You missed out on Bioshock, man.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _Gordon’s eyes widen. “_ **_2020?!_ ** _”_

_“Yeah, somewhere around the end. It’s hard to tell the date in here, really…”_

_“I’ve missed so much,” Gordon whispers. Part of him wonders if this is some joke Chester is playing on him. He doesn’t seem the sort, though._

_“I mean, the past couple of years have been kinda rough.” Chester grimaces a bit. “Probably better you missed it.”_

_Gordon is silent, trying to process the situation._ _  
_ _  
_ _“...Sorry I dropped such a big bombshell on you so casually...” Chester apologizes._ _“You missed out on wars and economic crises and disease outbreaks and the entire internet… And here I am, just listing them off like it’s nothing.”_

 _“It’s alright,” Gordon assures him. “It’s ordinary to you.”_ _  
__  
__The two of them go quiet,_ _the atmosphere having suddenly become very awkward._ _  
__  
__“When...When I get you out. I’ll catch you up okay?” Chester promises._

 _The world around them starts shaking in a rough rhythm, and distant voices start going off._ _Whose voice is that? Is that Bubby?_ _What’s he doing. What’s going-_

0=0

He gasped, eyes flashing open and sitting up abruptly. Bubby, who had been shaking him roughly, backed off once he sat up.

“We need to move. It’s not safe here anymore,” he explained. 

Chester groggily pulled himself to his feet, grabbing the headset as he did so. “What’s going on? Why isn’t it safe?”

“Have you _seen_ the ceiling, Gordon?!”

Chester looked up. He felt himself go cold upon seeing the large cracks decorating the ceiling above. It looks like it could collapse at any minute. 

“The rest went ahead, and I got the short silly straw on waking you up or dragging you out.” Chester looked around, confirming that everyone else was indeed gone. “Hurry up unless you want to fucking die.”  
  
“Right, right sorry.” Chester followed him out of the room. He didn’t want to know what would happen to him if he died... 


	4. Don't fuck up!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benrey goes a little too far with a joke...

The deep pit was dizzying to look down. He couldn’t see the bottom. Although, he guessed there probably wasn’t one, video game logic and all. Tommy’s words about Black Mesa digging to the center of the Earth echoed in his ears. “That is… A bigass hole.”

The chat was spamming Pogchamp emotes in response to the pit. The other members of the group were already making their way across using the various crates hanging precariously over it. Suddenly, Tommy slipped and was sent plummeting into the pit. It happened before Chester could even scream, but once he processed it, scream he did. 

He’d... He’d respawn, right? He was one of the AIs. He gave them respawning! 

Chester held his breath, feeling his stomach churn as he stared down into the pit.  
  
He only released it when he suddenly heard Tommy’s voice coming from the other side.

He sighed, letting himself melt onto the railing.

“Hey.”

Chester jumped with a loud shriek onto the railing. It creaked in protest against the weight of the beefy model the man wore, alongside the heft the HEV suit added on. He stumbled back before he fell in, thankfully.

“What the fuck?!” He growled, rounding on Benrey. The guard looked incredibly pleased with himself, grinning from ear to ear in an uncharacteristic display of emotion.

“Don’t fucking _do_ that!” Chester snapped. “What if I ended up falling into the pit to Hell itself?”  
  
“You won’t.”

“Sure, sure. What do you want?”

Benrey just grinned, looking pleased with himself.

“Maybe he wouldn’t do this if you didn’t give him a reaction,” Gordon suggested. 

“Easier said than done,” Chester muttered darkly.

Benrey watched him, the barest hint of curiosity flashing across his features. 

“Ugh.” Chester took a deep breath, looking at Benrey. “Don’t. Do. That. Again. You could kill me, seriously.”  
  
“You’ll be fiiiine,” Benrey scoffed. “It’s a game remember?” 

“A game I’m stuck inside,” Chester pointed out testily. “There’s no guarantee that _I’ll_ come back, even if Gordon has that guarantee. What if dying in the game means I end up dying in real life?”

“I’ve died plenty of times,” Benrey said dismissively. “And I’m fine, see?” He gestured to himself.

Chester gave him an incredulous look. “Yeah. Sure. You’re _totally_ fine.”

Benrey rolled his eyes. “Geez. Fine. Whatever. Way to be cringe, dude.”

He turned away and started making his own way across the chasm. Chester was the only one left on that side. He had to get across somehow. He took a few deep breaths. It would be fine. It had to be fine. 

“You can do this,” he told himself. Then, he stepped back and took a running leap to land on one of the crates. He was screaming the whole time. He grabbed hold of the wire attaching it to the ceiling, clinging to it as though his life depended on it. The box swayed threateningly but didn’t fall. He shuddered and closed his eyes to try and keep his cool. 

“Ohhhhh, I hate this,” he muttered. He prepared himself to make the next jump.

“Hurry up!” Bubby yelled from the other side. 

“Just give me a second!” Chester snapped back. “I have a big, heavy, cumbersome as fuck suit to work with! I don’t want to fall and die!”

Bubby grumped out at him again, but he didn’t pay attention. He was solely focused on trying to make the next jump. He didn’t want to miss and he didn’t want to risk not respawning like the others. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He took a deep breath as he prepared to make the next jump. 

“Don’t fuck up!” 

“Aah!” Chester screamed, startled from hearing Benrey’s voice right behind him. 

In his shock, he stumbled forward. And off the box. There was a brief, horrifying, gut-wrenching moment where he was dangling on the edge of the box, half on and half off, staring into the abyss. Then he was plummeting into the darkness, watching Benrey’s face as it zoomed away.

Benery watched him fall, a raw horror in his eyes.

Chester curled in on himself, feeling the air rush past faster and faster.

“Have you died before?” He asked Gordon. “Is it going to hurt? What’s going to happen to me?”

Gordon was quiet, although not because he was calm. He was freaking out just as much as Chester. He just didn’t have the words. He didn’t know what was going to happen. He didn’t know if this was going to hurt. He’d died before, sure, but he was supposed to. Chester was real, he wasn’t supposed to die here.   
  
The ground rushed up to meet them. And before they could even scream, everything was dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're technically in act 2, and I know the room with the crates was in act 1, but it was just too perfect a place for this scene so...  
> It's my fanfic and I get to chose the order of events
> 
> ~ Lili


	5. Gordon, are you done having an identity crisis?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chester wakes up

He blinked the red out of his eyes as he stood on the catwalk, trying to remember what he was doing. Something in him felt… fragile. Brittle. He didn’t know why.

… What was his name?

“Dude!” Someone grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him. “Are you okay?” It was a guard. They had security written on their vest. 

“Uh...Yeah...” He said slowly. “I’m... I’m okay.” He felt like his head was stuffed full of cotton, what a nasty headache “Who are you exactly?”

The guard’s eyes went wide.

“D-Don’t joke with me, bro,” they said with a nervous laugh. “It’s me. Benrey.”

“Benrey...” He repeated. The name sounded slightly familiar. He squinted his eyes at the guard. There was a nagging feeling of familiarity.

“This isn’t funny,” the guard, Benrey, said. A hint of desperation entered their voice. “Come on, Chester. I’m sorry I scared you.”

That felt right. 

His name was Chester. 

What was he doing? Something about a game? 

“Chester? Are you okay?” A voice in his head asked. The voice sounded like his own, somehow. 

“M-Mr. Freeman? Are you okay?” Someone else asked. A man poked his head around the corner. He looked middle-aged but was wearing a propeller beanie. Somehow, it suited him.

“I’m fine,” he answered, although being called ‘Mr. Freeman’ left him with a bad taste in his mouth. That wasn’t him. That was... Who was that?

“He’s not fine,” Benrey said. “He doesn’t remember anything.” He was sounding even more desperate now. 

“How did he forget everything?” Another man poked his head in. He was older, with glasses and a mostly bald head. He had a sour expression on his face. 

“Who forgot everything?” Another older man appeared, this one with a much more genial air and what seemed a classic white cloud of mad scientist hair.

“He did!” Benrey pointed at Chester. “He forgot everything! That’s not supposed to happen!”

“You forgot?” The voice in his head asked, also sounding a bit panicked. 

He was beginning to panic himself from the sheer amount of attention on him.

“Gordon, what happened?”

Chester slowly shook his head, unable to make himself talk past the cotton feeling in his mouth. He felt like he _should_ be saying something, but the words just wouldn’t come.

The man in the beanie hat grabbed him by the shoulders and started to shake him. “You can’t forget us, Mister Freeman! You’re our leader!”

“T-Tommy, I told you, that isn’t my name,” Chester tried to correct him. The collective sigh of relief on all sides was distinctly audible.

“It seems he hasn’t forgotten everything!” The older man with the fluffy white hair proclaimed. The man descended into stutters as if he were trying to begin a sentence.

“Are you okay there?”

The mustachioed scientist stared at Chester for several silent seconds.

“Hello, Gordon!” 

Benrey still looked scared. “How much do you remember?” he asked, panicked “How old are you, where do you live, where did you go to school, shit like that.” It was awfully uncharacteristic of him.

Chester narrowed his eyes at him. “Why do you want to know?”

"I've... Uh... Gotta make you a new passport bro!" Gotta make sure you have it for the final boss!”

That prompted him to roll his eyes. “Ugh, this shit again.” 

“Come on bro it’s important.”

“At least let it wait until we stop. It took me a second to remember, okay?” Chester slowly got to his feet with the help of the others. His head swam, making him stagger upon straightening. Being so tall was so disorienting. He was... taller than usual...

Right, this wasn’t his body, how did he forget that? He smacked his hand to his forehead and dug in his pocket for his chat tool. Benrey stared over his shoulder at it. Everyone seemed to be freaking out over the amnesia and the death, understandably. 

“I’m fine guys, really.” He tried to assure them. 

“Gordon, are you done having an identity crisis?” Bubby drawled. “I want to keep moving.”

“I’m fine,” Chester insisted. “Let's just keep going.”

“Fucking finally!” Bubby snapped, earning a cuff behind the ear from Dr. Coomer.

Chester rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself and starting to walk. He didn’t know why everyone was so freaked out. Everything was fine. 

...Right?

“I don’t think that was normal,” Gordon piped up. 

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Chester brushed him off. 

They all fell into line, making their way through the hallways. Benrey held up the rear, still looking upset and concerned. No one else noticed. 

Similarly, no one noticed when a sixth person joined the line behind them. 

“Ah, that looks like a safe place to hide!” The sixth member pointed out, prompting several guns pointed at him.

Chester groaned when he saw who it was. “Oh, for fuck’s sake-! What are you doing here?!”

“Who is that?” Gordon asked. 

The man before them was a scientist, judging by his attire. He had a kind face and a slightly nervous demeanor. 

“That’s Darnold,” Chester explained quietly. “I don’t know why he keeps showing up.”

“I-I just want to help!” Darnold said, shrinking into himself. He looked like a kicked puppy. 

“I already told you, Darnold, I appreciate the offer, I really do, but… I already have my hands full with these guys.” Chester gestured back at the group, his voice getting softer. 

“Hey!” Bubby scowled in offense. 

“You’re not our fucking babysitter,” Benry said, although his voice lacked its usual bite.

“But- But I could help you with them!” Darnold insisted, taking a step toward them. “I could!”

“I don’t need any more help.”

“Mr. Freeman, I do think we _could_ use some assistance,” Tommy piped up. “We do get in lots of fights. And, well...” He trailed off, but it was clear he was remembering what had just happened. 

“We’re _fine_ ,” Chester insists, looking frustrated. “I can’t handle juggling _another_ AI.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bubby snapped. 

“We do cause a lot of trouble!” Coomer laughed. 

Chester groaned, pulling up chat. They were all begging him to take Darnold along, but he was too tired to have to deal with _another_ AI following him around. It would just be another voice in the chaos, another element he needed to control. His mind still felt muddled from dying.

“You wouldn’t need to juggle me.” Darnold took another step toward them. “I can help. I know how to mediate situations.”

“I know you think you do,” Chester said through gritted teeth “I know you think you can help, but these fuckers are chaotic as Hell and I don’t think anyone can reign them in. You’re a computer. You’re not built for chaos.”

“We’re not preschoolers, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy said with a frown. 

No one around Chester looked happy. Coomer’s smile was gone, Bubby’s ever-present frown had deepened at Chester’s words. Even Benrey looked a bit upset.

“Chester...I think that was kind of a shitty thing to say,” Gordon whispered.

“I’m sorry, but it’s true guys! I fucked up something in your code, and now you gun down literally every scientist and guard and bystander we come across! I just got scared into jumping to my death and-and-and-” His breath hitched from the stress. “I can’t handle another one. I just _can’t._ ” 

“Way to be racist, bro,” Benrey muttered. Chester shook his head with a sigh. The motion made him dizzy, and he leaned against the wall to press his head to the cool stone.

Chester felt like he was going to collapse. Hadn’t he just woken up? He was trembling uncontrollably. He needed to make it stop.

“Y-You’re clearly tired,” Darnold said. “Maybe you should rest. We could continue this conversation when you’re feeling better rested.”

“I think that’d be good,” Tommy agreed. Chester felt too tired to argue anymore. He’d spent everything he had on that rant.

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever.” He shook his head. 

He allowed himself to be guided into a safe room, laying down and closing his eyes. He was just so tired. He was asleep in moments.

=0=

His eyes cracked open, stinging in protest. He just wanted to curl back up and close his eyes again, but his whole body ached from sleeping on the concrete floors. 

“Are you feeling better?” Darnold asked, his face coming into view. He looked awful. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked to be on the verge of crying.

“...No,” Chester admitted as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. “I feel like going to sleep did nothing but make me more tired…”

“Makes sense,” Benrey muttered. He was huddled in a corner, hugging his knees. He still looked upset. He’d been acting so strangely since Chester had had his breakdown, and even stranger in the wake of the recent discovery that dying would, in fact, lead to Chester respawning. What had changed? God, he felt so overwhelmed. 

Chester rubbed at his eyes, sighing. “I still feel like a ticking bomb…” 

“That sounds awful,” Darnold piped up. He sat in a corner, away from the others.

“He’ll be fine,” Bubby snapped. “We should get moving again.” He leaned on the wall by the door, looking even sourer than he usually did. Coomer stood between him and Chester, almost seeming to hover nervously. Maybe Chester was just being paranoid but they seemed... upset with him. Bubby especially. 

Now wasn’t the time to be overthinking things, though. He started to get to his feet, stumbling a bit. Tommy knelt beside him, helping him up.

“D-Don’t push yourself t-too much,” Tommy said quietly.

“Thanks, Tommy.” Chester couldn’t help but smile. Chester managed to stabilize himself, standing on his own. Tommy hesitantly let go, stepping back. 

“Alright.” Chester nodded to the others. “Let’s get moving.” 

Tommy and Benrey still looked worried about him. Bubby was notably avoiding eye contact. Chester sighed wearily, taking the lead so that he could ignore the snapping and anger. He felt like someone took a whisk to his head, but he tried to brush it off. He didn’t have any more time to worry about it.

He heard gunshots ahead after a while, and he froze in terror. 

“You guys hear that?” He turned around to look at the others.

“Hear what, Gordon?” Coomer asked. His cheerful tone felt forced. 

“The gunshots, Harold,” Bubby supplied. 

“Oh! Then yes!”

“Oh. Oh, dear.” Darnold took a few steps back. “I-I’m sorry. I’m not very good at combat. You don’t mind if I stay back here, do you?”

“Yeah, sure.” Chester waved him off, drawing his gun. It was far too quiet...

The others had drawn their weapons as well if they had them. Coomer had assumed his boxing stance, while Bubby, Benrey, and Tommy had pulled out their guns.

“Let’s take it slow until we’re sure it’s a threat,” Chester suggested, attempting to project his voice past the depressed hush it had been stuck in since he’d woken up from death for the first time in his life.

He watched the AI’s as they seemed to share looks with one another. “Before we go, does anyone want to hang back with Darnold in case anything tries to attack him?”

“Oh, I-I can do that!” Tommy volunteered, falling back to stand near Darnold. Darnold visibly brightened at being given some form of protection. 

Chester nodded at him with a weak smile. “Thanks, Tommy. We’ll let you know when the coast is clear.”


	6. ...Why did he care so much?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darnold wonders about Gordon  
> Gordon realizes how long its been  
> and someone tries to help

Tommy and Darnold sat together in nerve-wracking silence, listening to the chaos of battle in the distance.

“So, uh, is your… leader person always so snappy?” Darnold asked awkwardly.

“He-He’s kinda gotten worse...” Tommy admitted, his expression falling. “He’s... He’s j-just stressed...”

“If this is how he acts when he’s stressed out, I’d hate to see him angry,” Darnold half-laughed, trying to lighten the mood despite instigating the conversation.

“I-I mean, he only died for the first time a little bit ago!” Tommy added quickly. “He was scared he wouldn’t respawn. I’m worried he… might have come back wrong?”

“Come back wrong?” Darnold echoed with a frown. “What do you mean?”  
  
Tommy struggled to find the words. He knew roughly what he wanted to convey. He knew what he was worried about. But how could he put it into a coherent thought?

“He’s not- he’s not like us, he’s different...” He explained. “He’s... He’s some-something else.”

“Something else?” Darnold’s frown deepened. “That sounds bad.”

“It’s-It’s not!” Tommy’s tone grew a tad defensive. “It’s just...” He trailed off. He didn’t know how to explain it. Gordon was different from them in a way he didn’t quite understand. Always talking to people they couldn’t see, talking about them like... Like they weren’t alive...

“This sounds complicated,” Darnold said. 

“Y-Yeah. It is.”

They sat in silence for a moment or two, listening to the sounds of gunshots and screams nearby.

“Does he not like us?” Darnold asked. “It seems like he doesn’t like us.”

“I don-don’t know,” Tommy answered with a long sigh. “S-Sometimes he’s nice and s-seems like he cares, but then... Th-Then he gets all angry or snippy if something happens. Like we’re messing up some sort of play almost? Sort of. Kind of. It-it’s hard to describe. B-Benery bugging him for his passport seems to make him the maddest. Since he died, I hear him complain about his head hurting, so I th-think that something’s wrong.”

“Maybe I could help!” Darnold immediately suggested. “I’m sure I can help!”

“Y-You’d probably j-just make him mad,” Tommy sighed. “He-he tends to have a hard time… wrangling us.” He laughed, although it sounded incredibly forced. “D-Dr. Coomer keeps running into these dan-dangling tentacles he keeps confusing for ropes. I’m sure it’s tiring and ex-exasperating to keep having to deal with that an-and keep saving him.”

Tommy wrang his hands, bobbing his head to the side thoughtfully. “H-he does his-his best, I think. Trying to-to befriend us. I don-don’t think he’s a b-bad person, though. He-He’s just having a hard t-time. N-No matter what B-Bubby says.” 

“I see...” Darnold stared at the doorway. 

Gunshots rang out, closer than before. The two lanky men jumped. Tommy picked his gun up off the floor and made sure it was full and ready to get shootin’. 

“Stay-stay behind me, Darnold!” He warned.

“Of course!” Darnold scrambled back. “I wouldn’t want to get in your way!” His voice went up an octave at the prospect of violence.

Soon enough, two soldiers rounded the corner, faces obscured by helmets. Without hesitation, Tommy began to shoot. He was still a crack shot, managing to land nearly every one he let off. Still, the soldiers got off a few of their own. They didn’t hit Tommy, who ducked out of the way in time. 

They did, however, hit Darnold, who remained frozen in fear. He stumbled back, clutching at the wound.

“D-Darnold!” Tommy immediately turned to him when he heard the pained gasp. Tommy had barely enough time to straighten up and take a single step in the direction of Darnold before another bullet popped off.

Right between Darnold’s eyes. A flash of red, then the world went black.

=0=

Darnold’s eyes opened in his office, again.  
  
How many times had it been now? Making the long trek out to find them only to be killed minutes later? At least the trip was slowly getting shorter…

He sighed to himself, tired in his own right, as he sat at his desk and ruminated over what he had witnessed of the team alongside what Tommy has said to him.

Gordon was... Different. That was what he said. Different. He certainly acted like some sort of alien. Or maybe a godly figure might be more apt. Like he had a say in who they were as people. It was, frankly, scary, as god complexes never ended well if media had told him anything on the matter.

Tommy had said Gordon wasn’t a bad person, but he certainly could have fooled Darnold. He would have thought Gordon would be _happy_ to see another survivor. Happy to have the help. But of everything he’d seen, it was almost like Gordon was an increasingly exhausted and reluctant babysitter to his team. He didn’t seem to even be taking all of this seriously up until his most recent visits.

He seemed more… frantic. Paranoid.

Something must have happened.

But what? Why was Gordon like this? Why did he treat his team like children he needed to babysit? Why wouldn’t he help accept Darnold’s help?

Why wouldn’t he let Darnold help him?!

He felt tears stinging at his eyes. He was getting so frustrated. No matter what he did, Gordon never accepted his help. Gordon didn’t even want him around. Why? Why did Gordon hate him so much?

He sunk to his knees, burying his face in his hands. He didn’t know how much longer he could do this. It all seemed so pointless. 

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. Maybe Gordon didn’t want him because he couldn’t fight. After all, every time he’d shown up, Gordon had been forced to protect him or have one of the others protect him. It made sense that Gordon would be frustrated with a member of the group who couldn’t contribute. 

“Maybe if I were stronger,” he murmured to himself. “Maybe then Gordon would want me. Maybe then I could help!” He pushed himself to his feet to pace the room, muttering to himself about possible solutions to the matter.

He wouldn’t make a potion. Not yet. He’d save that as a last resort, as he knew for a fact that brewing a strength potion like the one he’d need would come with a harsher side effect than he’d witnessed or experienced yet. He had plenty of other options at least. The defunct cybernetics department was near his office and still had a few things lying around he could use…

What should he try first? Learning to shoot from far away? Sniping could certainly be useful. Finding a gun wouldn’t be hard around here. He’d just need to learn to shoot from a distance. And get over his pacifism he supposed. Anything to help Gordon, right?  
  
...Why did he care so much?

He sat again, tenting his fingers to consider why he felt such a _need_ to help Gordon. He didn’t even know him. He’d never even met him before the day of the resonance cascade. But he, for some unfathomable reason, _wanted_ to like him.

He’d mentioned something about them being AIs.

What did he _do_?

=0=

Chester idly took out the chat tool to glance at it, watching the text scroll by at a blinding speed. He spotted something in chat that made him scroll up quickly to read it properly.

_Duckman got himself in the news, did yall hear?_

His breath caught in his throat. News? How long had he been stuck in here? He wished he could do a damn Google search or _something_ on this thing...  
  
“Chat? What day is it? How long has the stream been going?”

He scrolled to the bottom of the chat, and he saw the same amount of time repeat over and over.

Five days. 

He’d been trapped for five days.

Without meaning to, he dropped the chat viewer and fell to his knees, vision blurring. He tore the headset off, throwing it to the ground as tears streamed down his face.  
  
Had his neighbors even noticed he was gone? His family?

Did anyone even care that he was gone?

“Gordon, is something wrong?” Dr. Coomer’s voice cascaded in concern. He looked up at his team, not caring how broken he must look to them.

“... Five days,” was all he could say. “It’s been five days.”  
  
“Indeed it has Gordon!” Coomer replied in that chipper way of his. 

“No-no wonder I’ve been… less than optimal condition-wise,” Chester continued, hands rising to rub at his neck and jaw.

He’d been steadily getting more and more thirsty as time went on, but he hadn’t wanted to complain and seem like a whiny asshole more than he already had. But it could be heard in his voice. Rough and raspy now, absolutely exhausted beyond belief.

Could the others see how much he’d unraveled in his time here? Or was it simply not in their programming to notice? Chester picked the chat tool up again. 

Everyone was asking about whether he’d actually eaten or had anything to drink. He couldn’t help it. His first instinct was to retreat into himself until he decided to get himself something.

But… the team took every can of soda they found. All the vending machines were powered off. Did they even need it? They weren’t human, just programs he had made. That almost made him mad.

He shook his head. He could deal with that whole thing later. 

“Can-can someone in the chat explain the news thing to me?” He asked. “H-how did the news pick up on what’s going on?” A moment passed and Chester heard his donation sound effect. He scrambled for his helmet to watch the notification and listen to the message.  
  
“A local news station ran a story about the stream,” it said. “One of your neighbors found you passed out in your apartment after you were screaming your head off.”

Part of him felt relieved that _someone_ had come to check on him. Someone had cared that he’d been gone. Even if it had taken him apparently screaming to get them to check.

“Yo, how are you gonna get out?” A chat message popped up. 

“Heard they couldn’t get the headset off.” Another appeared.

“Wait, is he _actually_ stuck in there?”

“Holy shit.”

“Dude! Are you okay?”

The messages started flashing by faster and faster, many viewers showing concern, while others showed disbelief.  
  
“I...I don’t know,” he answered them. “I’m just hoping something will happen when I beat the game.”

“Gordon, is something wrong?” Dr. Coomer probed again. Chester pulled off his helmet. 

“I’m getting sent donations. People are trying to reach out to me.” He couldn’t help the teary smile. “People actually care…”

=0=

_DuckDuck_LetsGO_ ’s streams were a guilty pleasure of Greta’s. Sure, she was supposed to be a “serious” reporter, but she was allowed to have fun too. She’d missed yesterday’s stream but he usually started around her break.

She hadn’t gotten a notification about him streaming that day, so she figured maybe she should check his Twitch channel in case it had some kind update. He tended to run a consistent schedule so it was odd for him to drop off so suddenly with no warning.

There was a stream going on his channel, and it had been running for…

Holy shit.

“That’s gotta be some mistake,” she said to herself with a nervous laugh. There was no way the stream could have been going for over 48 hours. Not unless he was doing some kind of challenge that she’d missed. 

But the stream title didn’t say anything about a challenge. The description read; “Short stream testing out some AI I made for Half-Life VR :)”. It looked like it was only meant to run for half an hour or so. 

What happened to make it run so long? Not tech issues, the stream would have been turned off at least once if that had been the case. Her journalist instinct switched on in her mind. She had to get to the bottom of this. Looking around to make sure no one else was around, she turned on the audio for the stream. The image suddenly shifted, like the camera was being set on the ground at an odd angle. Wasn’t this gameplay footage? How-?

She watched Gordon Freeman's model - strangely high definition (must be a remastered edition of the game that elected to keep the original ponytail Gordon had in the first game) - drop to his knees, the expression on his face outside the scope of what a game company would have put on their character's face. 

Then it... It spoke. In Duck’s voice, mouth moving and all. It didn’t sound like his mic usually did, but like it was the game audio.

"What… Oh, right. Fuck." The voice sighed, hoarse as if it had been in use for too long and tired as if he hadn't slept a wink since he started playing.

“What’s wrong, Gordon?” One of the NPC’s asked. He was a scientist character, probably one of the AI’s Duck wanted to show off. He looked like a kindly grandfather, and the voice did nothing to dispel that mental image. 

Gordon’s model shuddered, taking a deep breath as if trying to compose itself. "I-I'm sorry, I just… God, I still can't get over the fact that I'm stuck _._ "

“Don’t tell me you’re going to have _another_ fucking breakdown,” another NPC said. He was another scientist, but more on the grumpy old man side. Kleiner's model, from what she saw when the NPC walked into view.

“Now, Dr. Bubby,” the kindly old man chided the other scientist. “Gordon is having a difficult time right now. We need to be understanding.”

“He’s being a little bitch is what he is,” the scientist (Bubby?) muttered.   
  
“ _THAT’S NOT MY NAME!”_ Duck snapped. His voice was harsh, sore-sounding, and hysterical. 

“Yeah, right, Chester,” the guard snickered. “That’s such a nerd name, bro.” He looked to have Barney’s model, but Greta doubted he was actually Barney, judging from the other AI’s at least. An odd, colorful tail of lights accompanied by a strange tone hummed from the guard.

“Don’t... Don’t fucking sweetvoice me,” Duck (or was it Chester?) groaned. “Just... Don’t. Not in the mood right now.”

“He’s-He’s just trying to help.” Greta didn’t recognize the face nor voice of the next NPC to appear. He was wearing a propeller beanie despite appearing to be in his mid-30’s. 

“He is absolutely _not_ trying to help, Tommy,” Chester said. He looked over in the direction of the guard, eyes narrowed. The grin the guard gave him looked shit-eating in a way it absolutely should not have been able to. 

“God, I fucking hate you, Benrey,” Chester muttered. 

“Benrey?” Greta let out an involuntary snort of laughter. That was a ridiculous name. Had the AIs just slapped together syllables? That would explain Bubby at least.

"Hello, Gordon!" The kindly grandpa NPC chirped.

“Hello, Dr. Coomer,” Chester replied defeatedly. He retrieved something from a pocket. Greta recognized it as the chat tool he used while playing VR games.

Quickly, she typed up a message in the hopes it would be seen. _Hello, Duck, can you recap what has happened?_

There was the ping of the message being received and Chester peered at the message. 

“You want me to recap?” He asked. 

_Yes, please._ Greta typed. _I just tuned in._

“Well...” Chester let out a long exhale. “I, uh, I was doing a short stream to show off the AI’s I built. But then... Something happened and I got... stuck? I don’t know how it happened, but I’m stuck in here. I can’t leave the game.” His voice broke, a sob tearing itself through his body. “I don’t know how to get out. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me.”

Greta leaned back in her office chair, gnawing on her lip. The rational part of her wanted to believe this was some sort of stunt. She couldn’t imagine _how_ someone would end up stuck in a VR game. But it was hard to fake the kind of desperation and weariness she was seeing and hearing from him.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Benrey said dismissively, earning another glare from Chester.

"What if I never get out? What if I die while stuck in here? What then, jackass?" Chester snapped. "I'm so fucking _terrified_ for my own goddamn life."

The guard walked over and got in Chester's face. "Listen-"

"No, _you_ listen!” Chester cut him off. “All you've been doing is giving me shit about something I couldn't conceivably know I needed to have and continuously dismissed my fears and discomforts ever since I found out something was wrong! The only thing you've done the entire time I've known you is give me shit! I just want to go _home_!"

The Gordon model had a red face and bloodshot, wet eyes as he screamed in the nonchalant guard's face.

“Chill, dude.” The guard lowered his voice slightly. “You’re gonna be fine.”

“No! I’m not!” Chester screamed.

“M-Mr. Freeman, I think- I think you need to calm down a little,” the scientist evidently called Tommy approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Take-Take deep breaths.”

He demonstrated himself and Chester followed suit, taking slow ragged breaths to calm himself. The poor man sounded like he was about to have a mental breakdown. Greta could see tears forming in his eyes. She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully.

She needed to bring this to the attention of the public. Someone needed to help this poor man. After all the entertainment he'd given her for free, it was the least she could do. She was a journalist after all, what better person to get this out than her?

She needed to do some research though to make sure this wasn't a bit. But how to prove it?

In previous streams, he had mentioned being quiet to keep from disturbing his neighbors. She Googled his name. If she could find out where he lived, maybe she could contact his neighbors. 

She found his Socialblade profile and discovered his full name. In a new tab, she Googled his full name and the city they were in to see if there was an associated Facebook profile or any other social media connections.

Chester Wayne Mallory, 27 years old, his Facebook page said. He lived in her city.  
  
Greta pushed aside the excitement at finding out she lived in the same city as her favorite streamer to focus on the task at hand. 

His home address wasn’t listed on any of his profiles, which was a good thing in general but not in this specific case. 

“At least you take your online security somewhat seriously, Mr. Mallory,” she murmured to herself as she continued to search for some way to contact him or someone close to him.

She found a home and cell number, but not much else. His parents lived in a different city according to his Facebook, and he didn’t have a lot of close friends that lived in the area. That was almost a bit sad. She found herself wondering if he ever got lonely. 

Greta pondered asking Chester directly for his address but decided against it. It was probably better not to have his actual home address on the Internet. Not to mention the fact that she would be a complete stranger asking him out of the blue. Very reasonable to ignore requests like that or say no. So she needed to do this the hard way.

She leaned back in her chair, cracking her knuckles. She was a _journalist._ She had to get to the bottom of this. She just needed to buckle down and get to cracking this case.


	7. This is Channel 84

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chester's plight is shown to the world
> 
> And Benrey gets pushed a little too far

Greta sat hunched over her laptop, typing furiously away. She’d been making a lot of progress on her article. She just hoped it would be taken seriously... She knew it would be a lot to swallow. She honestly found it difficult to believe herself. But the proof was right there. She had gathered her screenshots and stapled the prints to the rest of the article as a dossier.  
  
How was she going to convince the station to run the story though? Sure she had all this proof, but it sounded _crazy_!

Maybe she could add a section on contacting him in real-time on the stream? If anything could prove it was all real, it was that. She nodded to herself. She carefully tucked her dossier into her purse before getting herself ready to go to work this afternoon.  
  
She certainly had her work cut out for her today.

  
=0=

  
It took... a lot of convincing, but in just a few more minutes her story would be live. The station had run a primer of the story the other day to explain what had been learned about the situation. The station had needed to set up a dummy Twitch account with access to funds so an interview could be facilitated through donations. She wished there was an easier way, but it was the only way to ensure the messages got to him. If only she’d had time to warn the poor guy.

She'd be going on in five minutes. Her heart was racing. She almost didn't hear her name being called as they went to commercial. Her name was called again, and she looked in the direction of the source.  
  
“You’re on when we come back,” they told her. 

She nodded sharply. “Is the stream interview setup ready?”  
  
“Everything is ready to go.” 

Greta stepped in front of the cameras. Her heart pounded in her ears. She’d reported on stories before, but never anything like this. She had to do well, both for herself and for Chester. She had to do this story justice.

“And... We’re live!” The cameraman gestured for her to begin. 

She plastered a smile on her face and began to recite her report, recapping the overview the station had run before and describing the process they would be going through to conduct the interview. She tried to keep her voice as calm and professional as possible while she spoke. She couldn’t let her true anxiety be noticed. 

Finally, it was time to attempt contact. They pulled up the stream. The Gordon character model was curled up in a corner, presumably sleeping. The helmet that housed the camera was currently being worn by one of the NPC’s, the grouchy scientist judging by the voice and the fact that the kindly scientist and propeller beanie scientist were present in the feed. 

“Hello? Can you hear me?” Greta asked. There was a moment of delay before the stream registered the donation. She was thankful for the automatic censoring on the cameras.

“ _Shit! Gordon, your helmet is talking to me!_ ” The scientist complained, stomping over to the apparently sleeping Chester. He sailed a swift kick to the armored man’s ribs, prompting a shrill yelp.

“ _What the fuck?!_ ” He demanded, jumping to his feet.

“ _Your helmet is talking to me!_ ” The grumpy scientist repeated, removing the headset and tossing it to the ground. Chester scrambled to pick it up. 

“ _Don’t just throw it around!_ ” He snapped. “ _You might break it!_ ” He slipped the headset on, taking the chat tool out of his pocket, trying to scroll up to the donation. “Hello? Sorry if I missed a donation, I was trying to get some rest."

Greta’s heart swelled. “Yes, hello. Can you hear me? This is Channel 84 Community Report News.”

There was the lag again as the donation was processed.  
  
“...Chat I’d really rather you didn’t fuck with me right now.” ‘

She looked at the chat to watch in real-time as people repeated _kicka you in the ribs, kicka kicka._ She rolled her eyes slightly and sent in another donation.

“We wanted to talk to you for a live interview,” she continued. “My name is Greta Markus. I’d like to talk to you about your situation.”  
  
“There’s no way. There’s absolutely no fucking way this is actually happening,” Chester muttered in disbelief.

“Well, one could say the same about your situation, but it’s happening all the same,” Greta forced a laugh. “Still, I would like to talk to you if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, uh, I... I guess that’s fine?” Chester said.  
  
“Is there any way you can get him to show his face on camera?” Someone on set asked.

“Would you mind taking the camera off? We’d like to be able to see your face.”

“I wouldn’t be able to hear the donations. Unless…” Chester beckoned one of the scientists over, the one in the beanie, and gave him the instructions to repeat the donations from the dummy news account. The phrase “#Tommyvision” began to be spammed in the chat.

“Got it, Mr. Freeman!” The scientist said brightly.

“Alright.” Chester moved into view, waving awkwardly. Greta had noticed that he did look quite a lot like Gordon Freeman in real life, but in the game he _was_ Gordon. It was rather interesting to see the face of Gordon Freeman smiling with the awkwardness of Chester Mallory. 

“Sorry I don’t look, uh, like myself exactly,” he apologized.

“You don’t need to apologize,” she quickly assured him. “It’s only natural given that you’re stuck in the video game.” 

Tommy repeated the donation message.  
  
“I wouldn’t exactly call anything about this situation ‘natural’.”

She smiled wryly and sent another donation through.

“Do you have any theories on what caused you to get trapped?” 

“Cursed computer.” The guard yelled from offscreen once the question was asked. 

“It’s not a fucking haunted computer,” Chester sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Totally is, bro. And I’m the ghost!” He made some ghost noises, dipping in and out of frame while projecting his sweetvoice to enhance the spook.

Chester facepalmed around his glasses with a sigh. “Benrey can you _please_ take something seriously for once in your life?” Chester begged, sounding defeated.

“Dude, I am.”

“You’re a nuisance is what you are.”

There was more sweetvoice in protest.

“Next question, newspeople?”

“Ah, of course!”

Most of the questions were mundane, just her trying to figure out the logistics of the situation. Chester answered the questions as best he could, but he didn’t have a lot of information. Then came the inevitable question.

“Have you died in the game, at all?”

Almost instinctively, Chester’s face set itself in an expression of distant disassociation. His jaw tightened and his hands formed fists at his sides.

“M-Mr. Freeman? Are you alright?” Tommy asked.

“I’m... I’m fine Tommy,” Chester said, although his voice shook as he spoke. “I... I don’t want to talk about that.”

Greta debated on pursuing it but decided to simply move on to other pressing questions. It seemed like a touchy subject and she didn’t want to make him have a breakdown. 

Soon, the station had her wrap up the interview. She thanked him for his time, internally wishing there was more she could do. The interview concluded, and she navigated away from the screen, smiling at the camera to officially end the interview.

=0=

People... Believed him. People were actually trying to help him. Chester felt a swell of relief and joy at the fact that people hadn’t completely forgotten about him. 

“You done talking to your helmet now?” Bubby asked testily, tapping his foot impatiently as if trying to ruin his good mood. God he had really fucked his AI up. 

“Yeah, I’m done,” Chester replied, rolling his eyes and putting his helmet back on. 

“Cool cool cool.” Benrey suddenly appeared beside him. “So... I still need to get your info. For, like, the new passport.” He had pulled out a notepad that already had the few details he’d managed to coax out of Chester scribbled down.

“You’re still on that?” Chester asked, suppressing a groan. 

“It’s serious business, bro. You gotta have documentation.” To his credit, Benrey **_did_** look serious for once. Serious and a tad worried. Which was weird.

“Why the _hell_ would that matter down here?”

“I toldja, dude, you need it for the final boss.”

“That makes no sense,” Chester said in a deadpan voice. 

“Please?” Benrey asked, his voice going quiet. 

Chester frowned and took a step back. “You’re freaking me out. Why are you acting so weird?”

“What’re you talking about?”

“You’re acting weird!” Chester pointed at him. “Your voice is all soft and you’re not making any weird innuendos and it’s weird!” 

“That’s called being nice, you idiot,” Benrey replied. He tucked the notepad away, the barest hint of hurt in his voice which had returned to its usual monotone.

“But you’re **not** nice!” Chester yelled. “You’re never nice! You’re an asshole who fucks with me all the time and let me remind you made me fall to my death!”

“I didn’t know you’d forget!” Benrey snapped back. “I thought you’d be fine!”

“Well I wasn’t fine, was I?”

“I didn’t know!” Benrey was sounding desperate now, upset. “I didn’t know you’d forget! I thought you’d respawn and you’d be fine!”

“But I wasn’t!” 

“Chester, let it go,” Gordon said, roused from a brief nap by all the commotion. “He didn’t know. He felt bad.”

“I don’t _care_ that he feels bad!” Chester snapped. “He _murdered_ me!”

“Murder is a bit of a strong word,” Bubby jumped in. “Murder would be shooting you.”

“Would _manslaughter_ be better?!” Chester asked in exasperation. “He caused my death and now he’s trying to act all buddy-buddy with me!”

“I wanna help!” Benrey insisted. 

“How is my personal information going to help you do anything except maybe commit identity fraud?” Chester demanded. 

“Chester, you’re upsetting him. Stop it,” Gordon begged.

“It’ll help if you forget again!” Benrey pulled out the notepad, waving it around. “You just gotta give me the info and I can remind you.” He smiled, the desperation plain again. There were the beginnings of tears in his eyes.

“And why do you even care if I forget?” Chester rolled his eyes. 

“Because I don’t want you to end up like me!”

Everything stopped, eyes turning to him in surprise. Benrey had just displayed more emotion than any of them had ever seen from him before. Even Benrey seemed frozen by his display of emotion. Then he vanished into thin air.  
  
What... What had just happened?

“... Shit,” Chester whispered. He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up _bad_.

“Oh dear,” Coomer mumbled, his normally cheerful expression suddenly mournful.

“I gotta find him.” Chester immediately moved for the door. He had to apologize. He had to make this right. 

“M-Mr. Freeman, we do-don’t even know where he went!” Tommy said, grabbing Chester by the arm.

“I have to find him,” Chester repeated. He and Gordon were speaking in unison. They had to find him. They had to apologize. They had to make this right. 

Tommy frowned, looking back at Bubby and Coomer. Bubby rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself. 

“Let’s go find him!” Coomer said brightly. 

Tommy turned back to Chester, who was still straining at his grip with a faraway look in his eyes. He sighed to himself. 

“O-Okay. Let’s go f-find, Benrey.”

=0=

Benrey didn’t know where he was going. He just knew he needed to get away. He didn’t like using that teleport command, it made him feel sick, but he had to get _out_. How dense could a person be?! Sure, he had a point about the fucking around, but Benrey had only done that before he’d realized the true scope of the situation! He shook his head, biting back the tears. Crying was just cringe.

“Should’ve just kept my mouth shut,” Benrey muttered, rubbing his eyes to try and make the tears go away. "Can't believe he can be such a stubborn jackass." Benrey curled up against the wall. Why couldn't Chester just believe him? Why couldn't he just let Benrey be happy he wasn't alone anymore?

What if Chester ended up like him because he wouldn’t listen? What if they both ended up amnesiac ghosts trapped in a haunted fucking computer?! His breathing sped up as he held himself tighter. He didn’t want Chester to be stuck like him. He didn’t even remember his name!

“He better not blame me if this goes tits up,” he sniffed, going back to furiously rubbing his eyes. 

What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t go back to the group. Not after the shit he’d just pulled. But he couldn’t go anywhere else either. Maybe he should just... wait here until Chester finished the game. He could go find him after that. Maybe by that point, Chester would have forgotten about Benrey’s freakout. Yeah, that would work. If he was going to ignore perfectly reasonable warnings, then maybe he plain didn’t need Benery’s help. He kept going on and on about being stressed and sick of juggling AIs, then maybe one less would do him good.

“Not like anyone actually cares about me.” Benrey’s voice broke and a sob tore through his body. He was alone. Just like he’d always been. He idly wondered if he even had a family, or friends outside the computer. He wondered if they missed him. Probably not, if he was anything like Chester. Just as alone as he was now... He sniffled again, curling into a ball on the ground. He just wanted to sleep for a little. 

He fell asleep beside a crate, curled in a ball, sweetvoice swirling through the air around him.  
  
Black to maize. 

The loneliest haze. 


	8. The Gordon We Know Isn't A Very Good Actor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coomer and Chester have a heart to heart
> 
> Gordon expresses his frustraition
> 
> And Gordon experiences something new

Dr. Coomer could tell that something was wrong with Dr. Freeman. Dr. Freeman had been stressed ever since the resonance cascade, yes, but after he’d died and respawned things had become much worse. It was as though something had broken in his mind. Coomer was concerned, to say the least, especially since Bubby seemed to be planning some sort of mutiny. He certainly hoped that Bubby wouldn’t act on his mutterings, or else he’d feel sorely disappointed in him. 

Gordon paced back and forth nervously in front of them. He’d been even worse since Benrey disappeared. It was clear he felt bad about what had happened with Benery. He hoped they would find him soon, so they could get back to finding their way out of Black Mesa. The Chester fellow that Benery kept confusing Gordon for seemed to really want to go home. 

Gordon turned to look at him. “Where else can we look? Where else could he have gone?!”

“W-We’ve looked everywhere, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy said.

“Well, he has to be somewhere!” Gordon yelled, gesturing frantically.

“Maybe he already found a way out and left,” Bubby suggested. “You know, like we should be doing?” It was clear from his tone that he was getting frustrated with this wild goose chase. The suggestion seemed to make Gordon freeze up and get a faraway look in his eyes. 

“I-I need to find him, Bubby,” he stated simply, voice shaking and raspy.

“Perhaps,” Coomer began, pausing for effect and waiting for the others to look at him. “We should take a break. Drink some soda! He-he- Gordon, what do you think of that?”

“I...Sure,” Gordon conceded, practically wilting the moment he seemed to assume no one was looking.

Poor fellow. He held out a can of Sprite to him the moment the group settled down. The way his eyes went wide and his clinging to the can as if it were a lifeline… He must have needed it. Coomer couldn’t help but feel bad for drinking all of the soda on him before. Gordon opened the can and practically chugs it all before asking if there’s any more.

“I’m afraid I don’t have any on me,” Coomer admitted. “But there should be more around here!”

Gordon stared at him, then smiled weakly. “Thanks, Dr. Coomer.”

“Hello, Gordon! You’re very welcome.”  
  
Good, that seemed to have calmed him down some. He even looked a little better.

Perhaps Coomer should keep spare soda on him just in case.  
  
Gordon started to talk to himself again. He always hid in the corner to do this, presumably ashamed of the habit.

“Who are you talking to, Gordon?” Coomer hazarded to ask, sitting next to him.  
  
“...I’m talking to Gordon”  
  
“Ah yes, hello Gordon!” Coomer smiled warmly. “It’s always strange to talk to yourself in the third person, is it not?”

“Oh, uh, I’m… not really talking to myself in the third person. I’m not the Gordon that’s meant to be the, uh, hero of the story as it were.”

How humble!  
  
“You don’t understand do you?” Gordon asked. “That’s fine...” He rubbed his face with a long, low sigh. “It’s… still kind of hard for me to process myself in all honesty.”  
  
“What do you mean Gordon?”  
  
“I’m not-!” Gordon began to shout, but stopped himself. “....I’m not Gordon.” Coomer tilted his head in curiosity in confusion.

“Could you please explain it to me as if I were a child?” he suggested.

“Gordon is... The protagonist! The hero! I’m just... the nobody holding the controller.” His shoulders slumped in what appeared to be defeat. 

“Ah. I see.” Coomer nodded. Something about that seemed familiar. He couldn’t quite place why it was so familiar, however. He shrugged it off in favor of conversation.

“You don’t,” Gordon sighed. “You can’t. None of you can.”

“Now, that is a very rude assumption to make,” Coomer chided him. “I would _like_ to understand.” 

Gordon sighed and seemed to shrink into himself. “Shit, I feel like such an asshole. Even though I _know_ it’s the truth…”

“Perhaps one of us could help?” Coomer suggested. “You’re clearly not doing well and I think I speak for all of us when I say we’re rather worried about you.” 

“...You only care because that’s what I made you to do,” Gordon said quietly, almost too quietly to hear. “It’s not real, none of it is.”

“Oh, I know that,” Coomer nodded. He’d figured as much. 

Gordon looked up at him, surprised. “You... You know?”

“I’m aware that we’re not human,” Coomer said. “I’m incredibly scripted.” Almost to prove his point, his next words were, “Hello Gordon!”

Gordon laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, sorry about that... I should have bug tested better...”

“It’s quite alright.”  
  
“And the fact that I made you, doesn’t freak you out?”

“Oh, it freaks me out quite a bit!” Coomer replied brightly. “But dwelling on it will only make things worse!”  
  
“Ah... I’m sorry...”

“As I said, it’s quite alright,” Coomer repeated. “Thanks to you, I get the chance to make many friends, such as Doctor Bubby or Tommy or Security Chief Barclay! Or you, for that matter!”

Gordon smiled up at him with a small, hesitant, sad grin that only lasted a moment. “... Would you feel that way if I never programmed it into you?”

“Did you program me to be friends with the others?”

“I guess not. I just wanted... you all to be friends with me.” Gordon hesitated. “That sounds really sad now that I say it out loud.”

“It’s not the worst thing a scientist has done!” Coomer pointed out brightly. “I think making friends is a noble pursuit!”

“I’m not a scientist though. I’m just a lonely college drop out.”  
  
“That doesn’t change anything Gordon!” Coomer slapped the other man’s back. “You’ve made something incredible! You’ve made _us_!”

Gordon looked over at him, and Coomer could see such vulnerability in his eyes. The younger man looked so worn down. It was all Coomer could do not to immediately smother him in a hug. It certainly looked like he needed one.

“Would you like a hug?” He asked. 

Gordon blinked, a bit taken aback by the question. “I... “ He paused, then smiled weakly. “Yes. Please.”

Coomer’s face lit up and in a moment, he’d enfolded Gordon in a bone-crushing hug. He loosened his grip a bit when he heard Gordon make a strangled noise.

“He- He- My apologies Gordon. I often forget my own strength.”

“It’s fine, Dr. Coomer,” Gordon said. Coomer felt a wet spot on his shoulder. 

“Are you alright?” Coomer lowered his voice. 

“I’m fine,” Gordon said, but Coomer could hear the quaver in his voice. Gordon was crying. The two of them sat silently until Gordon let go.

“Thanks,” Gordon sniffled, wiping away some residual tears. “I... I needed that.”  
  
“Happy to help, Gordon!”

Gordon smiled. It looked so genuine and open. Even from just a brief glimpse of the person behind all the frustration and exhaustion, Coomer could see a very lonely individual, hungry for any positive feedback. It wasn’t the poor man's fault he'd gotten stuck in the game and begun declining rapidly.

Gordon began to wring his hands, an obvious nervous tic, and turned his eyes away with a faraway expression. 

"... Do you think Benery will forgive me?" He asked quietly.

“I think he will,” Coomer said gently. “If you apologize and make it clear you regret the way you treated him, I do think he will forgive you.”

“You really think so?” Gordon’s voice was unsure and small.

“I do.”

Gordon nodded, continuing to wring his hands. “...I hope we find him...”

“I trust that we will, Gordon.” Coomer patted his back. “Now, why don’t you get some rest? We can keep searching when you wake up.”

=0=

When Chester awakes in front of the mirror, Gordon has his arms folded and the look of a disappointed parent on his face. 

“Do you want to explain why you’ve been such an asshole to the others?” He asks testily. 

“I...” Chester tries to come up with some worthwhile explanation, but he knows there isn’t one. His shoulders slump. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to the others!” Gordon snaps. “You’ve been awful to them! Benrey ran off because of you! He was trying to help and you drove him away! You made him cry! And what do you have against Darnold, anyway? He seems like a lovely man!” 

As Gordon yells, Chester just hangs his head and listens. He deserves this. He knows he does. 

“Why would you make them and then just treat them like this! I thought you wanted friends!” 

“I… I don’t know what’s going on,” Chester admits. “I’m lucky Coomer and Tommy even want to talk to me at this point.” He refuses to meet Gordon’s eyes.

“What’s going on is that you’re being an asshole,” Gordon says, although his anger is faltering a bit. He had expected some other reaction. Not this... defeat. Chester rubs one eye with the heel of his palm. 

“There’s something else. I mean, look!” Chester points to a crack in the glass between the two of them. “I-I’m not trying to deflect blame, I’m really not, but… Something is clearly going on. Being a jerkass… _isn’t me._ Hasn’t been me since high school. I can’t stop what I say before it comes out, and I _hate it_ !”  
  
Chester takes a shaky breath. “Something is... broken. It’s in my head and I don’t want to be like this, Gordon! I shouldn’t even be the one out there, it should be you! You’re Gordon Freeman, you’re the hero! I’m just... Some nobody.” Chester sighs and bows his head. “Clearly, I’m not doing a very good job. You… were built for all of this.”

“...Chester I’ve never _walked_ before.” Gordon says, his anger completely forgotten now. “I’ve never had control of my own body! What do you expect me to do?”

“Better walking troubles than personality troubles… You-you’re programmed with stuff. Maybe you’ll automatically know what to do.”  
  
Gordon looks nervous.  
  
“You’ve been through all of this before right Gordon? You know the game better than anyone!” Chester smiles, oddly hopeful. “You’ve probably memorized everything about the way to go.”

“This is different.” Gordon shakes his head with a heavy sigh. “Everything has... changed. The paths aren’t the same, the enemies aren’t the same. Everything’s changed! Besides,” he pauses and folds his arms again, more concerned parent than lecturer now. “This seems like you running away from responsibility.”

Chester’s smile falters, and he retreats into himself, avoiding Gordon’s gaze again. He grabs his shirt sleeve in his hand, balling it up in a nervous fist. “I’m not. I just… It’s probably better for everyone if I’m just… not there to keep fucking up. Everyone will be happier if I’m not here to ruin it all.”

“Don’t say that.” Gordon’s voice softens. “That’s a dangerous way of thinking, Chester.” 

“Even if it’s true?” Tears are welling up in Chester’s eyes. “I mess up everything all the time. Why do you think I had to _build_ friends? I drove everyone else away.” He wipes his eyes dry.

“I don’t think anyone would even care if you took care of everything instead of me. They’d probably like you better,” he finally says after a long, quiet moment. “You’re who they expected anyway.” 

“You may have messed up, but you can still fix it,” Gordon insists, panicking a bit at Chester’s self-deprecation. This conversation has taken so many more turns than he’d expected.

Chester shakes his head, forcing a smile. “It’s your body, anyways. Who am I to deny you the chance to use it? You deserve it more than me.” 

“This isn’t about being deserving,” Gordon tries to say, but it’s clear that Chester is no longer listening. 

Black tendrils reach up and wrap around Chester’s legs. Somehow, Gordon knows there’s nothing he can do to wrench Chester from his dark thoughts at this moment.  
  
“It belongs to you.” Chester’s voice can barely be heard. “You should be able to use it.”

Just then, the world begins to shake. Someone is calling Gordon’s name. Chester steps away from the mirror, letting more of the dark tendrils wrap around him. 

“It’s time to wake up, Gordon.”

Before Gordon can protest, everything goes dark.

=0=

“...don...Gordon...”

Someone was saying his name. Why were they saying his name? He was sleeping. Couldn’t Chester handle this?

“GORDON!” 

He shrieked, startling awake from someone screaming directly into his ear. He was in the room where they’d gone to sleep, only now Bubby and Tommy were at the door shooting at someone he couldn’t see. Likely soldiers further down the hallway. Coomer knelt in front of him, hands on his shoulders. 

“Hello, Gordon!” Coomer said, his grave expression contrasting the cheerfulness in his voice. “My apologies for interrupting your sleep, but we really need to get moving.”

“Oh, um, okay?” It felt strange to speak, to be heard. 

“Excellent!” Coomer smiled, slapping his back, nearly causing Gordon to fall on his face. “Let’s be off then!”

“Okay.” Gordon nodded weakly, stumbling to his feet. Why was he awake and not Chester? He could still feel Chester there, in the back of his mind, but he seemed to be asleep. 

“Come on!” Bubby snapped. “We don’t have all fucking day, here!”

“R-Right. Sorry!” Gordon stumbled after them as they began to move. Moving and feeling his body respond was so incredibly strange and alien.  
  
It was terrifying.

But if the others’ tones were to be believed, he didn’t have time to be freaked out about the situation.

Why wasn’t Chester waking up?! Shouldn’t he be concerned about this?

Despite being surrounded, Gordon suddenly felt very, very lonely. Coomer gave him an odd look. Gordon tried to look away. He didn’t know how the others would react to knowing he wasn’t the Gordon they knew. 

"Gordon, why are you so quiet?" The man asked gently.  
  
“It’s... It’s nothing,” Gordon managed. “I’m just still tired.” His voice felt foreign on his lips, it wasn’t his. It was Chester’s. 

“W-We can take a break w-when we’re safe,” Tommy suggested as they ran. 

“Asshole doesn’t deserve a break after sleeping for so long. We need to keep moving, not nap all the time,” Bubby muttered, just loud enough for Gordon to hear. 

Gordon tensed instinctively at the malice he sensed from the other scientist. He wanted to immediately apologize and pacify the threat, but he knew that probably wouldn’t work. After all, none of the others knew about him and Chester’s cohabitation. If he tried to apologize, he was sure Bubby would just blow up at him. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Coomer asked, a concerned furrow in his brow. 

“I’m fine,” Gordon tried to insist. He wasn’t fooling anyone, though.  
  
“Are you sure there’s nothing you want to tell us, Gordon?” Coomer said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Gordon flinched, frightened by the sudden contact. 

“I’ll...I’ll tell you later,” he said, removing himself from Coomer. “In private.”

Coomer raised an eyebrow but let it go.  
  
They continued on their way, Gordon sticking near the back. The others looked at him strangely since Chester always led the group. No one said anything to him, thankfully. He needed… to think.

"So, uh, what happened? Why are we running?" Gordon asked hesitantly.

"A bun-bunch of soldiers almost ambushed us!" Tommy supplied.

Oh god, what if he had to fight? What if he had to shoot? Why did Chester have to do this _now?!_

Next time he talked to Chester, he’d definitely be giving him an earful. Chester needed to stop running away from his problems and foisting them off on someone else.

Coomer stayed near Gordon, looking even more concerned. Honestly, this outcome was inevitable. Even if Gordon had _tried_ to pretend to be Chester, it likely wouldn’t have worked anyway. Their personalities were too different. 

By this point, they’d managed to get away from those who were trying to kill them.

“Alright, it looks like we’re safe again. You can go back to sleeping the day away,” Bubby growled. Gordon winced at the accusation. The others stared, Chester wasn't this jumpy… 

“You didn’t die again, did you?” Bubby snapped flatly.

“N-No. I didn’t,” Gordon answered, shrinking into himself. 

“You’re acting rather strange, Gordon,” Coomer said. 

“Y-Yeah. Did so-something happen?” Tommy asked, moving closer. 

Gordon backed away. His chest was starting to feel tight. He couldn’t let them know he wasn’t Chester. He didn’t know what they’d do if they knew. He trembled uncontrollably, no idea what to say. 

“I-I-I-” He tried to start, but his voice cracked.

“Don’t tell me he’s _broken_ ,” Bubby groaned, throwing his hands up. “Did the death mess him up that bad?”

Tommy stood in front of Gordon, staring at him intently. Gordon could see the wheels turning in his head. 

“Y-You’re not the Gordon we-we know, are you?” He asked.

Slowly, hesitantly, he shook his head. “He-he… decided to stay behind, I think,” Gordon mumbled.

“Stay behind?” A hint of concern entered Coomer’s voice.

“He-He’s not gone forever!” Gordon said quickly. “He’s just sleeping right now!” 

Gordon watched the NPCs seem to share looks, and he felt his heart clench painfully in his chest from sheer anxiety.

"We were… ah, talking in his head while we slept. Like a lucid dream? And he-he-he- the way he was talking worried me." Gordon took a step back, the way every single one of them was just... staring at him.  
  
Maybe if he was alone, like he usually was, he could do this. But he wasn’t.

“Worried you how?” Coomer asked. Or perhaps demanded was the better word. His voice had dipped low, uncharacteristically serious. 

Gordon was briefly cowed into silence before he found his voice. "He… kept saying he didn't matter. And… that he ruined things. And that no one would care if he was gone. He's con-convinced that he's the reason everything is going wrong."

"He's not wrong," Bubby muttered, and Coomer dealt a swift punch to his shoulder.

“It... He sounded kind of suicidal.” Gordon began to wring his hands. “It... It scared me.” He fidgeted in place from Dr. Coomer's intense stare. "And-and-and now he's not here, and I don't know what to do."

“But you said he-he’s still here, right?” Tommy pointed out. “Jus-Just sleeping, right?”

“Yeah...”

“So-So he’s not gone forever!” Tommy forced a weak smile.

Gordon nodded, looking to Bubby for his input. All he got was a harsh glare.

"Hello, Gordon! I'm sure everything will turn out fine. As long as the other Gordon gets the proper reassurances and patches things over with Benery, I'm certain it will all turn out fine!" Coomer put on a smile as well, although it looked just as forced as Tommy’s. 

“But what about...” Gordon trailed off, eyes flicking briefly to Bubby. The others turned to see what he was looking at.

“What? Why are you looking at me?” Bubby snapped.

“I-I-... I think you’ve been getting to him...” Gordon mumbled.

"What’s that supposed to mean?” Bubby demanded. “I'm just calling you out on your bullshit! And don’t pull that whole ‘two people’ crap! You don’t have DID!”

"I know it's not DID but… you-you've _noticed_ how 'I'm' suddenly acting strange and different than how you know?" Gordon pointed out.

“You could just be fucking with us,” Bubby persisted. 

“I-I think he’s telling the truth,” Tommy said quietly. “The Gordon w-we know isn’t a v-very good actor.” 

“He could have been acting this whole time!”

“You know,” Coomer began. “Gordon doesn’t normally react when we say his name. All of a sudden, he looks at whoever says his name. Strange, isn’t it?”

“I...” Bubby trailed off. That _was_ a good point.

“His name isn’t Gordon,” Gordon said. “It’s Chester.”

Coomer looked over at Bubby with a pensive smile. Bubby glared back at him silently. Of all of them, he was the most stubborn. He was the most likely to refuse to trust when his pride was wounded. And the Gordon he knew, “Chester”, had wounded his pride quite a bit. He didn’t want to just readily accept what this supposed “new” Gordon was saying, especially when he might be proven wrong.

“This is ridiculous!” He yelled before walking away, refusing to take any part in this. 

Coomer smiled tightly at Gordon. “He’ll come around,” he stated simply, wrapping an arm around Gordon’s shoulders. Gordon flinched at the touch in surprise but soon started to lean into it. It was nice...

Tommy was pacing the length of the room, brow furrowed as he muttered to himself. He seemed to be trying to figure something out.

Gordon found himself wishing he knew these NPCs better, knew how to interact with them all so he knew the right ways to talk to them.

Chester knew. Even in waking, he could look at the memories Chester had from before they had begun sharing a body.

He knew what went into them. The time, the sleepless nights, the desperation for someone to like him.

Gordon knew how much it hurt for Chester to be the very reason there was a schism between himself and the others.

=0=

He checked all of his equipment over for a third time, rereading the coding executables for a fifth, not wanting to mess up a single step. All four of them were ready to be tested. He just had to double-check everything. They wouldn’t be perfect, he knew that, but he was still nervous. He plastered on a smile, however, and started up the camera. It was showtime.

“Hey, everyone!” He waved enthusiastically at the camera. People slowly started to enter the chat. 

“So, today I wanted to show off some AI’s I built. I’ve got four of them here that I’m going to test out.” He dropped the files into place, each one labeled.  
  
The tutorial NPC, the rival, the friend, and the moderator. His hands trembled as he initialized the AIs and compiled them into the game.

“Now, I didn’t set models or completely program their personalities, just outlines for their general behavior, so it’s gonna be a surprise for all of us!” He started up the game, slipping on his headset. He switched on the headset and read the mostly quiet chat as the game booted up. His following was rather small, he’d get 100 viewers on a good day, 150 on a _really_ good day, but it was still nice to have people watch him. Not to mention a small audience allowed him to talk to his viewers on a more personal level. 

There were only about 20 right now but that was fine, he was just getting started. Those present were speculating about what the AI’s were going to be like and whether or not Chester would get bullied by his own creations. It... Honestly wouldn’t surprise him if that happened. He’d take it in stride though. 

The game booted up and he was greeted with the familiar menu screen. He could feel himself getting a bit giddy. He hadn’t played Half Life in _forever_! This would be fun. 

“Alright, so the first AI we’re probably going to see is the Tutorial NPC,” he explained as he pressed start. “You can probably guess what he’s gonna be like. I’m not going to play the tutorial, though, since the actual tutorial NPC could interfere with the code.” 

“Show us the tutorial boy,” the chat demanded.  
  
“I didn’t write much of him,” Chester explained. “I found him unused in the code so I fixed him up a bit. He might be a little buggy though since he seems to have been removed _pretty_ early on and I didn’t change much.”

There were some comments of disappointment, but Chester pressed ahead. 

“Okay, let’s go! Gordon time.”

He flipped down the visor to enter the VR world.

=0=

“Gordon? Are you alright?”  
  
Gordon shook himself awake. He’d gotten lost in thought for a moment there...

“U-Uh, yes?” He asked tentatively. “Is something happening?”

“Tommy thinks he knows where Benrey might have gotten off to,” Coomer explained. 

Gordon couldn't help but beam brightly. "Let me try to bring Chester back first. He’ll want to apologize."  
  
“How do you plan to do- Hello Gordon!” 

Gordon shrugged slightly before turning his gaze inward. “Chester? Are you here?”

“I’m trying to sleep.” Came the groggy reply.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Tommy thinks he knows where Benrey is and I thought you’d want to be in control to apologize.”

“Mm...” 

“Please Chester?”  
  
Chester didn’t answer, mumbling in response.  
  
“I... Don’t think he’s going to wake up...” Gordon said. Already, his chest was feeling tight. Why wouldn’t Chester wake up? Why was Chester making him do this on his own? His breathing sped up.

“I’m sorry, Gordon,” Coomer said quietly, wrapping an arm around Gordon again. 

Gordon leaned heavily against him, shivering. He couldn’t do this on his own! He _needed_ the player! He was useless on his own! What if Chester never woke up? What if he had to do the whole game by himself?!

“T-Take some deep br-breaths, Mr. Freeman.” Tommy was in front of him now, his voice gentle and calm. Gordon tried, but he looked like he was about to cry.

“Mr. Freeman.” Tommy put his hands on Gordon’s shoulders, his voice now firm. “T-Take a deep breath. Do it wi-with me.”

He then began to take deep breaths, gesturing for Gordon to follow suit. Slowly, Gordon's breathing started to stabilize. 

“Good.” Tommy smiled. “Keep going.” 

Gordon continued to take deep shaking breaths, clinging to Coomer for stability. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. He was just a vessel for the player! He wasn’t supposed to be out there! He wasn’t supposed to have a voice! He continued begging Chester to wake up and save him but he just wouldn’t respond.

Eventually, he just seemed to crumble, burying his face in Coomer’s chest and starting to cry.

"H-he-he's the player! I need him!" He choked.

“You’re your own person, Gordon,” Coomer soothed him. “You don’t need him.”

"I've never been on my own before..." Gordon twisted his long hair between his metal gloved fingers, the pain from pulling it a grounding, sobering sensation. "I'm not designed to… _work_ without a player being there. This isn’t even my voice! It’s his!”

"You're-you're talking with it, right?" Tommy asked, visibly confused.  
  
“I don’t... I’m not _supposed_ to have a voice.” Gordon insisted. "I'm built to be a vehicle by which the plot moves. I'm not meant to be anything but a vessel!"

"You seem pretty organic to me!" Coomer commented.  
  
This was pointless... They hadn’t been awake for as long as he has. They weren’t capable of understanding. He lowered his head in despair. 

“...None of you get it.” Gordon mumbled, avoiding everyone else’s gaze. “It’s hard, and no one understands.”

“Well,” Tommy began. “Maybe if you explained, I’d understand and we could all help!”  
  
“I know you think you can help, but-” Gordon stopped himself. He... He was starting to sound like Chester did. They _had_ to be capable of understanding. He was an AI too, after all. He’d just been awake for longer.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay. I’ll... I’ll try to explain.”


	9. You can’t just stay here and sleep forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coomer offers Gordon a hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can have two chapters in one day, as a treat.

“Do you really expect me to believe we’re just programs on some loser’s computer?” Bubby exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. Coomer had forced him to come back for the explanation, not wanting him to miss it. Bubby hadn’t been happy about it but had sat through it anyway for Coomer.

"And also, how are we supposed to know if he's lying?!"

“I don’t think he’s lying,” Coomer said quietly, uncharacteristically solemn.

“Why should we trust him?!” Bubby demanded, gesturing broadly to Gordon. “He’s been nothing but an asshole the whole time we’ve been with him and now we’re just supposed to believe he’s some kind of _god_? And that _this_ is a different guy?!”

There was only so far he could be expected to suspend his disbelief. 

“Please, you have to believe me,” Gordon begged. “I know I don’t have the words to explain it properly, but I’m telling the truth.” He scratched at his face, having gotten too frustrated to deal with this. 

“I-imagine, if you will, you get trapped in any book or game you like,” Gordon began again. “And none of the characters you interact with respect you, even if they insist on sticking around? But THEN!” He held up a finger. “Then, a traumatic event resurfaces buried depressive, suicidal behavior! And then all the characters start mocking and dismissing you for it.” His voice actually held some authority as he spoke. “That-that’s Chester’s life right now.”

“That sounds awful.” Tommy looked distraught. 

“Well, maybe he shouldn’t have been an asshole to start with.” Bubby folded his arms, his face set in a stony mask of irritation. “Maybe he shouldn’t have treated us like morons who can’t understand his _huge_ problems. Maybe he shouldn’t have treated us like we aren’t people!” He was still angry about the dismissive behavior of this ‘Chester’ character.

Gordon’s anger finally boiled over. “You idiot!” He yelled, making the others jump back at the ferocity in his voice. “Everyone here has been a stubborn little shit, him included! _You_ refuse to accept when Chester tries to tell you something is wrong, then hold a grudge when he has no other outlet besides blowing up on you guys! He has been feeling shitty and terrible for lashing out at all of you and is more depressed than I have seen anyone be in my years of being a player character! Yes, he shouldn’t have lashed out, but you could at least make the illusion of putting effort into making amends! I can feel every comment you make break his heart a little more, and he takes every word as gospel!”

Bubby was reduced to silence. He had no response to Gordon’s rant. Because he knew Gordon was right. They’d all messed up. But Bubby didn’t admit when he messed up. He was too proud for it. 

“Perhaps, once we get Chester back - with or without intensive psychic surgery - we can all talk this out calmly and ensure everyone in this group is fully willing to forgive one another,” Coomer suggested.

“Th-That sounds good,” Tommy agreed.

"What's psychic surgery?" Gordon asked, concerned.

“Oh, nothing you need to worry about!” Commer said brightly, slapping Gordon’s back. Gordon stumbled forwards at the force.  
  
“I don’t know how long it’ll take him to wake up,” Gordon admitted once he’d recovered. "I don't even know if he _wants_ to be awake right now."  
  
“How do you even know he’s still there?” Bubby snarled, earning a rare Coomer Glare.

"Gordon, for three PlayCoins™, I can assist you with waking up Chester," Coomer offered.

Gordon gave him a confused look, “What are those anyway? I don’t remember them being mentioned in any other runs...”

“Removed feature,” Chester mumbled from the back of Gordon’s mind. “You could exchange PlayCoins for hints. Took it out of the game. Didn’t need hints.”  
  
“Chester?!” 

Chester groaned and Gordon could imagine him rolling over and pulling some metaphorical covers over his head.

“Is he awake Gordon?” Coomer asked eagerly.

“Kinda?” Gordon frowned. “But he’s trying to go back to sleep.” His frustration and desperation were rising again. He **needed** Chester. He couldn’t do this without him.

"Do you authorize the Playcoin™ transaction, Gordon?" Coomer asked.

"Yes!" Gordon begged. Dr. Coomer closed his eyes and cupped Gordon's face in his hands.

Everything went white.

=0=

Gordon blinks his eyes to clear them of the light, and he's standing in the mirror room from his dreams again.

Except Coomer is now with him, straddling the line the glass makes in a seemingly specially-made circular room also made of glass.

“What do you want?” Chester mutters from the other side of the mirror. Sure enough, he’s on the ground with a blanket thrown over himself. The blanket looks to be made of shadows pulled from the very walls of this place.

"We're _worried_ about you," Gordon pleads. "Dr. Coomer even spent some of my Playcoins to be here and help!"

“They’re happier with you in control. Just leave me alone,” Chester says, waving a hand dismissively and ducking his head under the blanket of shades. 

"Hello, Gordon!" Coomer cheers unhelpfully. "Rise and shine! We have a busy day ahead of us!"  
  
“You can’t just stay here and sleep forever,” Gordon insists. "Don't you want to go home? Leave all of this bullshittery behind and get back to living your life? Because you can't do that if you decide to waste away in a sea of another person's thoughts!"  
  
“What life?” Chester snaps. “Why do you think I made the AIs? I don’t _have_ a life!”

"What about your family? The chat? There are people worth living for! I wanna go home to my son but I know he isn't _real_. There has to be someone out there that would miss you if you were gone!"

This makes Chester visibly pause. He sits up, letting the blanket fall away. 

“I... I have a godson,” he says. “His name’s Joshua too.”

Gordon's expression softens too, and the link formed is almost visible. He sits next to the mirror with a sober expression. "What's he like? How do you know his parents?"  
  
“...His mother is my sister,” Chester says. “I babysit him all the time; sometimes it feels like he’s the only thing keeping me going.”

“Then keep going for him,” Gordon urges. “Get out of here so you can see him again.” 

"But-"

"But what? Are you still upset about Doctor Bubby being an emotionally stunted little shit who only uses his brain cells to hold grudges?" Coomer jumps in with a smile. Chester looks over at him, startled.

“Bubby is a bitter old man who hates everything!” Coomer continues brightly. “That’s his problem, not yours! Yes, you definitely messed up, but you also feel bad about and want to make amends!”  
  
“He was just supposed to tease me. Y’know, playful ribbing,” Chester mumbles to himself. “It was supposed to be funny. For the chat. They already tease me a ton.”

“Maybe you just didn’t put limits on him or something,” Gordon says.  
  
Chester pauses for a moment. “Fuck, I knew I forgot something.”

Gordon can't help but laugh. "There ya go, that explains it! At least he has enough hate to smear all over our enemies, right?"  
  
Chester laughs. “That’s true, he’s great at that.” The smaller man wrings his hands, looking up nervously at Coomer.

"Hi, Dr. Coomer,” he greets with an anxious smile.

“Hello, Not Gordon!” Coomer replies brightly. “You’re very small! I presume that means you are a very young man. Is it correct to call you a teenager?" 

Chester can't help but feel embarrassed at being addressed as such. He very much had not expected Coomer to say that and now he's insecure about himself again.“Uh... Sure. We can go with that. I'm, ah, twenty-seven, however.”  
  
“Of course, Not Gordon!” He says with that same chipper smile. "Now, I would give you one of my patented Bonecrusher Hugs™ but I'm afraid I cannot with this glass in the way. Even if I could, though, I’m afraid it would be too much for your tiny frame!"  
  
“I’d uh... rather you didn’t... crush me if that’s cool.” 

“I would also rather not crush you! Because you’re so small and vulnerable! But know the sentiment of comfort still remains, Not Gordon!"  
  
“Thanks.” Chester smiles.

"Tommy thinks he knows where Benery went. You can talk to him." Gordon encourages.  
  
“He does? Really?”

"That's part of why I've been trying to reach out to you!" 

Chester looks away, unable to meet his eyes. “I’m... I’m sorry. I got so caught up in my self-pity that I... I kinda forgot about apologizing to Benrey.” 

“Well, you can apologize now.” Gordon smiles gently, putting a hand to the glass. 

Chester hesitates, then discards the blanket completely, placing his hand against Gordon’s. They smile wearily at each other, and everything fades to white. 

=0=

The first thing Chester saw when he woke up was Tommy’s face. The scientist was crouched down over his previously unconscious body, staring intently down at Chester. Chester fell back in surprise, nearly hitting his head on the wall.

"Hi, Mister Freeman.” Tommy gave him a small, hopeful smile. “Are you feeling better? I'm sorry Bubby made you feel so bad."  
  
“I’m uh... Doing a little better. Thanks, Tommy.” Chester managed a smile in return. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached up and pulled Tommy into a hug. 

Tommy was a bit surprised but happily hugged Chester back. “We were all really worried about you Mr. Freeman! I’m glad you’re feeling better.” 

“Thanks, Tommy,” Chester mumbled into Tommy’s shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry…"

“It’s okay,” Tommy assured him. 

Chester looked over Tommy’s shoulder to see Bubby staring back at him. Tommy indicated for Bubby to join them with a tilt of his head. Bubby stared back. He didn’t look too glad to see him awake again. 

"Bubby?" Chester began, bringing himself to his feet. "I want you to know that from the bottom of my heart… I'm sorry. I'm sorry for yelling at you guys and snapping at you. and-and-and… I doubted my relationship with you guys because I'm the reason you even care about me," he confessed.

Bubby stared at him for a long, expressionless moment.

"You think that's going to fix anything?" Chester's expression fell.

"I'm… I just want to make amends. I know I fucked up."

“Whatever,” Bubby said, folding his arms and turning his head away. “Just don’t expect me to believe this shit about you being some sort of ‘god’.”

"I know I'm not a god. I'm just a lonely dude that went to extremes just for some friends to play games with," Chester sighed. "I never aspired to be anyone's god."  
  
“Right, whatever.” It didn’t look like Chester was going to get through to him any time soon. He wished he could tweak those parameters now, make this all better.  
  
But... was that even ethical anymore? They were _alive_. He’d just have to work on fixing the relationship the old fashioned way, and worry about Bubby's unrestrained aggression later.

Chester simply sighed and rolled his shoulders in preparation for hefting up his gun. “Tommy, you said you thought you knew where Benery was? Can you lead me to him?”  
  
Tommy’s face lit up. “Yeah! I think I’ve got an idea of where he might be!”

“I’ll follow you, then.” Chester got to his feet. “How did you figure out where he went?”

“He left sweetvoice remnants.” Tommy pointed at some glowing particles in the air.

“So he left a trail!” Chester lit up. “That’s great!”

“Indeed it is!” Coomer agreed. “How remarkably handy of him!”

And so they began to follow the trail of glowing dust.


	10. Um... I can't sing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode 10: Revenge of the Gamers

Benrey was still crouched in his hiding spot. He wondered how much farther the others had gotten without him. Maybe they’d be at Xen soon. They were probably happier without him. Chester was probably happy he’d left and wasn’t fucking things up for him anymore. He wasn’t sure what he’d do when the game was over though. They’d still be trapped here, together. They’d have to make up at some point. In fact, he felt almost giddy at the idea of not being alone anymore. Having someone else to talk to and play games with. It’d make spending eternity haunting this old desktop at least a little better. But he could still be angry right now.

Suddenly, he heard voices. Voices he knew. The voices of his friends. He briefly wondered how they’d found him so fast before realizing he’d been leaking sweetvoice the whole time. He was really starting to regret installing that mod... It was bad enough he’d almost choked on it when he first got stuck. That was when a thought struck him. He’d poured out his heart to Chester and had been rebuffed. Now it was Chester’s turn to spew his feelings. It was definitely the deaths that screwed up his memory, so the mods were probably safe.  
  
A console window appeared at Benrey’s fingertips. With practiced ease, he pulled up the code for Chester. It was just as screwed up as his own, which made it all the easier to install the mod. Just a little copy and paste aaand-  
  
The sounds of someone choking could be heard Benery was unable to hold back the feral grin. And now to spawn in the monster that should go there, deactivate the puzzles, and they should struggle at least a little to get to him. 

He wanted to be alone for a little while longer. 

Chester, meanwhile, was trying to deal with the fact that he was now vomiting colors. It had come on suddenly, as soon as he’d set foot in the room. He couldn’t help but notice how much the colors looked like Benrey’s sweetvoice. Feeling drained as if he'd sobbed his heart out, Chester let the colors drip from his mouth as his head went slack.

“Are you okay, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asked.  
  
“I have no idea,” Chester answered between labored breaths. "God, I just…"

More colors dribbled from his mouth, in dizzying swirls of pink and purple. Tommy knelt to examine them. "Dusk to dawn, that means… what’s going on. Are you confused? Is this not normal for you?"

“Oh, fuck me,” Chester groaned. “Why do I have Benrey’s dumb sweetvoice now?”

"Maybe he'll tell us if we ask!"  
  
“Right, right, which way next?”  
  
Tommy looked around. There were sweetvoice remnants _everywhere_ , “I-I don’t know Mr. Freeman...”

"... I fucked it up, didn't I? I'm sorry."  
  
“It’s okay Mr. Freeman! We’ll figure it out!” Tommy assured him. “He has to be somewhere around here!”

Tommy smiled brightly, genuinely, and Chester… he _felt_ it. 

Streaks of yellow stuff mixed in with the pink and purple physical emotion started to drip from his mouth as well. He was going to be sick for real.

"How do I turn this offfff..."

"I-I don't know if you can, Mister Freeman!" Tommy bemoaned. "But we're close enough that he can invoke that kind of response in you!"

"Right, he's gotta be close," Chester replied, getting up from the floor and wiping the strange liquid from his face. "Let's keep-"

A large, green tentacle crashed into the room, seeming to search for something by tap-tapping along the ground. Chester bit back a scream as he stumbled away from the creature. He coughed and sputtered out more colors as he got away from the monster. 

"W-what _is_ that thing?!" He gagged.  
  
“Brown to gray means ‘This isn’t okay’,” Tommy noted. 

"THAT THING!" Chester pointed. "Is an abomination! Remember what the scientist guy said? We need to turn on the rocket to kill it!" He scrambled to his feet. They needed to find the controls. They had to be around there somewhere right? He ran into the next room and found deactivated controls for oxygen, fuel, and power.  
  
“Okay. Okay, we have a few things to turn on before we can get that plan to work,” he said.  
  
“I know how it works Mr. Freeman! I read it in a book once!” 

Chester beamed. “Alright, let’s go get to work, then. Looks like the paths to other rooms are cleared out. Do you think Benery has been through there?”  
  
“It’s hard to tell, you’re making sweetvoice remnants too now.“

Chester winced, watching new colors drip out of his mouth. He wiped his mouth clear of the new, slimy slurry as he looked over the banister into the pit where the monster was residing. He hummed passively, pensively. The colors dripping from his lips started to float up, forming into small wobbly bubbles. He yelped at the sight, prompting the green and purple colors to pop and splatter colors all over like paint. Thankfully it disappeared as soon as it hit his face and clothes. 

"What was _that_ ?" He muttered. He doesn't want to foist his problems on the others anymore, but part of him really wanted to curl up in the back of his head again to get away from all this.  
  
“Don’t even joke about that,” Gordon warned.

"I'm not joking," Chester replied.  
  
“Don’t.”

"I'm just shoving it all in the back right now."  
  
“That’s not healthy. That’s not even a little bit healthy.” 

"I'll be fine. We need to keep moving before we completely lose the trail.” 

Tommy flicked a couple of switches. “Okay, please come back inside, Mister Freeman!” 

Right, he didn’t want to be anywhere near that thing when it launched. He scrambled back into the launch room, tripping over his feet and landing flat on his face. Coomer helped him to his feet.

“Careful, Not Gordon!” He said brightly. “We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself!”’

“Thank you, Dr. Coomer,” Chester smiled weakly.

“I-I’m going to fire up the launch!” Tommy announced, now that he was sure everyone was inside. He flicked one last switch.

The rocket roared to life, nearly deafening everyone present. The monster shrieked as it was burned away by the exhaust from the rocket. It tried to fight back against its doom, but there was nothing it could do. When the noise finally stopped there was almost nothing left. 

“O-Okay. Now we can keep looking,” Tommy said, nodding to himself. 

Chester vaulted himself through the window of the testing room to the cries of protest from his team, plummeting down until he sank into a pit of water.

His lungs hurt.

He'd forgotten what his plan was

“What are you doing?!” Gordon screamed. Chester didn’t answer, swimming deeper. There was a blue shape under the water that seems to look up at him. 

Benery shoved his entire arm in his mouth and-

**_BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB._ **

Fucking... God, why?

He gestured for Benrey to follow him, starting to swim up to the surface. He wanted to tell Benrey he was happy to see him, but he couldn’t do that underwater. He opened his mouth, letting air and colored bubbles out, and he hurriedly clamped his mouth shut. Benery watched the bubbles with thinly veiled amusement. They shifted from a deep purple to a leafy green. Chester wasn’t sure what that meant. Whatever it meant, it seemed enough to convince Benrey to swim to the surface too. They reached the top, the two of them treading water. Benrey let loose a few purple-green bubbles of his own, quickly attempting to cover his mouth. 

Chester couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry, sorry, I- I came looking for you to apologize, and here I am laughing at you!” 

“You came to...apologize?” Benrey asked, his eyes going wide.

“Of course I did! I made you feel like shit, and it’s been eating me alive since it happened!” Chester exclaimed. “You were only trying to help me and I snapped at you.”

“Well...Thanks,” Benrey mumbled.  
  
“ARE YOU ALRIGHT NOT GORDON?” Coomer’s voice called down to them. 

“I’m fine! There’s a pool down here! Benery was hiding here!” Gordon called back up.

“Why is he calling you that?” Benrey asked with a frown.

"Remember the brain, Gordon? Coomer figured out that we were different people,” Chester explained. “After I... kind of pushed the real Gordon into control for a bit." His expression turned sheepish. 

“You can do that?” Benrey’s eyes widened even more.  
  
“Apparently. He wasn’t very happy about it.” 

"Why'd you do it then, ya dingus?" Benrey swam a bit closer, punching Chester’s shoulder. 

"He deserved a chance to use his own body!" Chester protested, swimming away. 

“Sounds like you were just trying to hide from your problems, dude.” 

“... Maybe a little,” Chester admitted. "I'm used to just… pretending the bad feelings don't exist."

Chester coughed out bits of molasses colored brown before scowling. “Did you do this to me somehow?” He accused. 

Benery shrugged. "Decided to activate a mod you ended up not removing. You'll need to turn on cheats yourself."  
  
“There are cheats?! Why didn’t you mention this sooner?”  
  
“You wouldn’t have believed me anyway.”

"... Yeaaaah,” Chester reluctantly admitted. 

They should probably get out of the water… Chester hefted himself out and offered Benery a hand to help. Benery's face went red, eyes wide, and small notes of sweetvoice in valentines-like pink to a lovely ivory droning out. Should he ask what that one means? He probably shouldn’t…

Tommy, nonetheless, still gasped childishly at the color scheme. And Benrey’s face darkened.

"Mister Freeman, Rose pink to Ivory dove means ‘I have-’"

Benery swiftly shot Tommy between the eyes before he could finish his sentence. 

"What the fuck?!” Chester exclaimed.  
  
“He’ll be fine, he’ll respawn,” Benrey said dismissively.

“You can’t just fucking shoot our friends!”

"He was going to reveal classified information. Clearance five." Benrey deadpanned.

“That makes no...” Chester began before shaking his head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” He threw his hands in the air, accidentally splashing Benery. He gagged and spit colors into the water.

“You need to sing the emotions out, man,” Benrey said. “You’re gonna gag all the time otherwise.”

Chester chuckled nervously. “Um… I can’t sing.” 

“Then just, like, hum I guess?”

“My voice cracks at any and every given opportunity,” Chester said flatly. 

“Which is quite adorable in tandem with his small body!” Coomer piped up, now suddenly beside them. “He looks and sounds like a teenager!”  
  
“Chester is a _TWINK?!_ ” Benrey blurted out.  
  
Chester lost his grip on the edge of the platform he’d been attempting to pull himself onto and fell. He found himself very much wishing he could escape his body and not have this conversation.

“What the Hell is a twink?!” Bubby yelled from the control booth. Dr. Coomer responded in the most robotic possible tone as he presumably read from the Wikipedia page on the topic.  
  
_“Twink is gay slang for a young man in his late teens to early twenties whose traits may include: general physical attractiveness; little to no body or facial hair; a slim to average build; and a youthful appearance tha-”’_ _  
_ _  
_ “ALRIGHT I GET IT!” Chester shouted as he surfaced. The doctors broke out into uncontrolled laughter. 

“Hello, Not-Gordon!” Dr. Coomer greeted cheerfully. “Nice day for some skinny-dipping, eh?”

“I. Am. Fully. Clothed!”

“Speak for yourself, Peenman,” Benery snarked.

Almost immediately, Chester’s head snapped around to look at Benrey, worried the security guard had shed his clothes while he wasn’t looking. He was still fully clothed, thankfully.

“You sure looked over fast,” Benrey grinned. “Were you _hoping_ I was skinny dipping?”

“No, I was praying that you _weren’t_ because I have kids watching these streams.”

Benery shrugged. “We could always teach ‘em the birds and the b-”

“ ** _No!_ ** ” Red and purple dripped out of the side of his mouth.  
  
“Red to Amethyst means ‘I’m getting sick of this’!” Tommy chirped. It seemed he was back already.

"Let-let's just get going,” Chester sighed. “Which way do you guys think we should go?"  
  
“Up!” Coomer provided. Helpful as usual. 

“And where does up take us exactly?” Chester asked.  
  
“To the surface of course!” Coomer replied. 

“Weeeell… I can see a tunnel leading outside from here,” Benery hummed laconically.

“Hole!” Coomer commented helpfully. 

“Then we should use the tunnel,” Bubby said. He’d climbed down from the control booth, having gotten tired of yelling down to the others. 

“Yeah, okay.” Chester nodded, starting to wring his hair out.  
  
As the others made their way towards the tunnel Chester stayed back with Tommy.  
  
“Hey Tommy, what does purple to green mean?”  
  
“Well, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy began. “Purple like night, to Green like a vine, means ‘I’m so glad you ended up fine’!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pink Rose to Ivory dove, means I have fallen madly in love <3


	11. Gold to Red (means I want you dead)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benrey shows off some mods he installed
> 
> Chester loses something important

Darnold was working hard to figure out how to get stronger. When he met Gordon next, he had to be the _perfect_ teammate. Gordon would have no choice but to let him join! He felt giddy at the prospect of finally being accepted. He still didn’t understand why, but he _needed_ it! And Gordon needed him too! He just knew it!

He’d been trying to brew potions for the past hour or so. He hadn’t been entirely sure what to put in it, so he was mostly just throwing everything he could into it. As a last resort, just in case Gordon still wouldn’t take him. A potion like this could have _disastrous_ side effects. He had some issues, but he wasn’t about to sacrifice his health and safety without good reason. Not until he was sure it was the only way. 

“I wonder where they are now,” he murmured to himself as he watched his concoction bubble over the Bunsen burner. “Off having some fun adventure without me...” 

He sighed and shook his head. He’d get into their good graces soon enough. 

=0=

Chester and his group were not having a good time. Once again, they’d gotten ambushed by soldiers. Chester kept telling himself they weren’t real, they were just programs, but god it felt real when they collapsed under his crowbar.  
  
Benrey didn’t seem to care at all. How long had he even been here? The more he learned about Benrey, the more concerned he became. Behind his general air of fuckery and mischief, he seemed...hopeless. Like he’d given up.  
  
“I’ve been here for a long ass time,” he’d said. “There isn’t a way out.”

Hearing him say that had made Chester even more determined to find some way to get Benrey out of there. Right now he was sitting behind some crates, not even bothering to help fight, admiring his fingers which he’d given dull points, like claws. 

“Could we get a little help here?!” Chester yelled. 

“Nah, bro. You’re doing fine,” Benrey replied, still examining his claws. ”Not sharp enough...” He muttered before his fingers somehow became sharper.  
  
“How did you even do that?!” Chester shouted over the sound of gunfire.

“Cheats,” Benrey said as though this was normal.  
  
“Doesn’t that hurt?”

“Nope.” Benrey shook his head, clearly only half paying attention. “Not like it matters, I’m god-moded anyway.”

Once again, Chester found himself incredibly concerned for Benrey. Benrey seemed to have little to no concern for his personal safety, and Chester didn't doubt that even if modifying his body _did_ hurt Benrey, he’d do it anyway.  
  
“What if it has side effects when we get out?” Chester pressed.  
  
“I already told you, we won’t.” Benrey shook his wrist and the claws disappeared.

Chester frowned. He moved toward Benrey, making sure no one was shooting at him. 

“I’m going to get us out,” he said firmly, putting a hand on Benrey’s shoulder. "You, Coomer, Tommy, Bubby… it would be too cruel to all of you. The others are… _glitched_. I need a chance to fix their coding. I fucked them up so I should at least fix them. And… I've been too harsh on you."

Benery, who had been staring at Chester in awe, could only respond with, "Whuh?"

"I-I-I've been blowing up at you for no reason and I've been dismissing you,” Chester kept going, all his repressed feelings spilling out. “It's not right. Whether or not you're a construct of the game with AI slapped on, I should be treating you like any other human being." A powder blue and seafoam green liquid started to drip from his mouth before Chester remembered to hum it into bubbles.

Benery stared at Chester, unaware of the rosy pinks and ivories coming out of his own mouth in a low hum.

“Powder to foam means you shouldn’t be alone!” Tommy announced, suddenly appearing beside them.

Benrey yelled and fall backward off the crate while Chester also stumbled back.  
  
“I...I don't think I’m ever going to get used to that...” Chester said to himself, “Are you sure you can’t get rid of it?” He asked Benrey.

From his place on the floor, Benrey simply shrugged. “S’part of your code now, can’t get rid of it.”

“But _you_ changed it in the first place! Can’t you just change it back?” 

Benrey leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. “Nope. Human code is crazy complicated. You can’t just take shit out. Adding stuff is way easier.” 

Chester paused, mulling this new information over. "... So you can only make superpowers. Like the ever-desired constantly puking colors?"

"You wouldn't be puking if you hummed them out, bro," Benrey chided him.

Chester huffed out a single red and amethyst bubble that wobbled fragilely and seemed to swirl with the two tones before bursting. “This is a shitty power, you know. Who would _want_ to puke out their feelings in the form of slimy colors?”

“Like I said, you wouldn’t be puking if you tried to hum it out.”

"Benery. Benery. Benery." Cheater rested a hand on Benrey's shoulder, and the other man spat out more ivory and rosy pink bubbles. "I can't hold a note to save my life."

“Doesn’t need to be _good_. Just... Just gotta music it out.” Benrey attempted to look everywhere **but** at Chester.

"Benery, between my dehydration and my inability to sing, I doubt I could hold a note without my voice cracking."

Despite himself, Benrey let out a small snort of laughter at the reminder that Chester was, in fact, a twink. 

“Why did you even do this to yourself?” Chester asked, frustrated. “What’s the goddamn point?” Motes of rosy red and deep, bright blue float of his mouth.

"It’s just a fun mod, y’know. Fun noisemakin’ mod. Wasn’t supposed to do this. Now it does. Gives me something to do, at least. Runnin' out of things to do gets boring.” Benrey shrugged, getting into a sitting position. “I saw all your games by the way. Surprised you found a VR Doki Doki."

“Ugh. That was a mistake.” Chester visibly shivered. “That game was creepy enough _without_ VR.”

"Yeah, didn't peg you for the horror type."

" _Will you two stop flirting and get a move on?!_ " Bubby could be heard yowling. “ _More soldiers are coming!_ ”

Chester hiccuped in surprise, letting more red and blue dribble from his mouth in a poor attempt at becoming bubbles. 

“Red rose to azure means embarrassed for sure!” Tommy translated brightly. 

“L-Let’s just go,” Chester said, feeling his face getting hot. “Come on.”

Benrey got back to his feet and the three of them headed after the two older scientists. Benery hummed out purples and pinks, not unlike the ones Chester had first spat out.

"Uh, what's got you so confused?" Chester asked.

"Huh? Whah?"

“Those colors.” Chester pointed at the colored orbs. “Tommy said they meant confusion. What are you confused about?”

Benrey shrugged. “I dunno. Everything? Lotsa stuff happenin'."

“Do you... _Know_ what’s happening?” Chester asked slowly.

“Nope!” Benrey grinned.

Chester sighed heavily. "Well, we need to take care of the soldiers and rest. I feel like I'm going to collapse again. We can catch up when we rest.”  
  
“You still get tired? Cringe.” 

"You know what's really cringe? Not having bodily functions." Chester shot back playfully. Dark reds and pale yellows dribble from his lips.

“I dunno man, not having to sleep is pretty sweet.” Benrey couldn’t help but grin.

"But what about cuddling in bed with someone you love?" Chester hummed in mock disappointment, more deep red and cheerful yellows escaping his lips.

“You two are gross,” Bubby loudly announced.  
  
“B-Bubby don’t be mean! They’re having a moment!” Tommy protested. 

"Isn’t young love beautiful?” Coomer said, latching onto Bubby’s arm. 

“It’s gross,” Bubby grumbled. “I’m glad _I_ was never young.”

"Well. that simply means your only option is old love," Coomer chirped, patting Bubby on the shoulder. 

“That’s fine,” Bubby replied, directing a small smile Coomer’s way.

Benrey and Chester shared a glance and both faked gagging. It was like watching their parents flirt.

  
=0=

Darnold was on the move again. He’d gotten a bit antsy by himself and was now searching out Gordon’s group. He held his gun in shaky hands, hoping he wouldn’t have to use it any time soon... 

If his calculations were correct, they'd be moving into the airstrike zone any second now.

He hoped he was wrong. That they were either behind or ahead of schedule. He had to hurry and catch up. 

The bombing zone was thankfully not under siege for the moment as Darnold slipped outside. His heart pounded as he ran across the area. He was terrified of running into a soldier and having to fight. He was certain he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t a fighter. But he had to! For Gordon!  
  
The group of five came into view. He ducked behind some rubble to watch them. He had to make this meeting count. He had to prove to them he could be useful. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. When he looked back, there was another figure nearby. Was it another one of their friends? He was about to call out to the figure when they raised a gun and began firing. They were aiming for Gordon! He had to do something! He raised his own gun and fired toward the figure. His hands were shaking too much, though, and when he fired he wasn’t pointed at the threat. 

It was pointed at Gordon.

=0=

Chester barely had time to react when he heard the gunshot. Red dripped from his mouth. Was it sweetvoice or-  
  
Chester fell to his knees.

Okay. Not sweetvoice. Pain blossomed in his chest. The voices of his friends were muffled as they gathered around him. He could tell they were panicked, but he couldn’t make out anything they were saying. Someone was screaming. Was it him? His vision was getting cloudy.

He was dying again, wasn’t he? He fell forward, Benrey catching him. He was vaguely aware of him screaming his name. Despite himself, he felt his heart gripped with icy terror. 

What would he forget next? Would he still be able to regain his memories? Would there be parts that just **wouldn’t** come back?

But he couldn’t panic. That would only upset everyone further. 

“It’s...’S gonna be okay,” Chester mumbled, gently resting a hand on Benrey’s cheek. “I’m...’M gonna come back.” 

Was Benrey... Crying?

He felt himself breaking under the pressure.

He opened his eyes to open blast doors and a rain of bombs from above. 

What had he been doing? 

=0=  
  
  


Benrey looked up in the direction the shot had come from, he saw a familiar frightened face hiding behind some rocks. His eyes narrowed. He allowed his noclip to vibrate his body in anger, and he whistled like a teakettle in blue to green as he floated up.

“Sup,” he greeted Darnold, masking his anger flawlessly. Darnold scrambled backward, looking up at him with fear in his eyes.  
  
“I-I-I- I’m sorry!” He stammered.

“What’cha up to, up here?” Benrey’s smile was wide, revealing row upon row of razor-sharp teeth.

“I just- I wanted to take out the soldier,” Darnold babbled. “T-To save Gordon! I didn’t-I didn’t mean to kill him!” 

  
“Riiight...” Benrey flicked his right hand and a set of claws appeared. 

“I didn’t! I’m sorry!” Darnold looked on the verge of tears. “I’m so sorry! I-I-I- my hands kept shaking and I missed! Oh god, the first person I kill and it’s someone I want to befriend...” Darnold’s eyes flicked between Benrey’s teeth and his hands, looking about ready to dive behind one of the rocks. 

“He’s going to forget more now,” Benrey said, his smile getting wider. “Every time he dies, he loses a little more. You’re making him forget. I’m not letting that happen.” Were his teeth sharper than before?

“Wait, he’s forgetting? That-that shouldn’t happen!” Darnold’s eyes went wide, his mind scrambling to figure out just why Gordon might be forgetting with each death.

“Yeah, well, it’s happening anyway.” A growl entered Benrey’s voice. 

“We-we need to fix it! I could brew up a potion that could help!”  
  
“Nah, I think I’d rather you just left.” Gold and Red bubbles floating from his mouth with each word.

Tommy, Bubby, and Coomer remained a safe distance away, watching as Benrey tore the poor scientist apart. Normally they probably would have been unsettled by this, but the acceptability of murder was much higher in this situation. 

Besides, they had to wait for Chester to respawn so they could help him remember. Benrey joined them again a few minutes later, his clothes covered in blood.

“Have you finished mauling that man to death?” Coomer asked. Benrey didn’t answer. A window appeared by his fingertips and he typed something in. The blood vanished instantly, his clothes looking good as new. 

“O-Oh, did you clean up so you wouldn’t scare him?” Tommy asked after staring at Benrey for a moment.  
  
Benrey’s face darkened. “No, I just... Didn’t want Darnold’s cringe blood on me.” 

“Of course!” Coomer winked at him. 

Beside Coomer, Bubby smirked and let out a snicker. “Suuuure.”  
  
Benrey’s face went even redder and he huffed. Where was Chester anyway?

“Where is that dumbass?” He muttered. 

Just then Chester stumbled into view, leaning heavily against a wall. 

“Hello, Not Gordon!” Coomer boomed. 

Almost immediately, Benrey sprinted over to Chester, grabbing him by the shoulders.   
  
“What’s going on?” Chester slurred, his eyes looked distant.

“Do you know who you are?” Benrey asked. Chester looked up at him, blinking slowly.

“You’re pretty,” he said with a goofy smile. A few pink and ivory bubbles escape from Benrey’s mouth before he can stop them. 

“Gaaaaaayyy!” Bubby crowed.  
  
Chester slumped over into Benrey’s arms, a dumb smile plastered on his face.

"Okay, loser, I need to know: do you remember your name?"

"... It's Gordon, right?" Benrey nearly dropped him. 

“Nonononono,” he said quickly. “No, your name’s Chester.”  
  
“Chester... Chester...” Chester repeated the name a few times, as if he was testing how it felt in his mouth. “Are... Are you sure?”

"Absolutely positive."

“It sounds... familiar…"

"It's _your_ name."

Chester stared blankly at him for a few minutes, clear Sweetvoice dribbling down his chin.  
  
Benrey looked over at Tommy, hoping for an explanation. He’d never seen clear before. Tommy looked just as confused. He was chewing on his lip and wringing his hands. 

“I-It’s... Not anything?” Tommy said. “I-It might just be drool.” His voice went up an octave, likely out of fear or anxiety.

“He’s probably just drooling,” Bubby said. “He seems pretty out of it.”

“Hey, could you hum for me, bro?” Benrey asked, patting Chester’s cheek.

“Mm. Sure.” Chester nodded vaguely before starting to hum. The liquid drifted into the air as wobbly bubbles. He stared at them vacantly, as if unsure of what they were.

“Nice job.” Benrey nodded half-heartedly, focusing on the bubbles.  
  
“What is it...?” Chester asked quietly, the bubbles bursting as he stopped humming.

“It’s a... It’s a thing,” Benrey said vaguely. “It’s a mod.” He was getting worried. Chester hadn’t taken nearly this long to snap out of it last time. What if he was broken for good? 

“Are you quite alright, Not Gordon?” Coomer asked. Worry tinged his voice as well. 

“He’ll be fine,” Bubby scoffed. “He was fine last time and he’ll be fine this time. You just have to let it come back to him.” Benrey reached for his pocket to grab the notes he’d been writing. 

“Uh...Fuck. Let’s see.” He flipped through the notebook. “Your name’s Chester Mallory, you work at 7/11, you’re a fuckin’ nerd.” 

Chester slowly nodded but his eyes were still clouded over. It didn’t look like he was listening. 

“Come on, man, listen to me!” Benrey snapped his fingers in front of Chester’s face. “Two characters with amnesia is bullshit!” Desperation crept into his voice and for once Benrey didn’t try to hide it.

“Not remembering things is my gimmick, bro! Don’t steal it from me!” Benrey begged, although it was clear even know he was trying to hide how upset he truly was.  
  
Chester blinked. “Benrey?”

“Yes?!” Benrey lit up, hopeful that this meant Chester was remembering. 

“How long was I...-” Chester looked around like he wasn’t sure how he’d gotten there. 

“Not long,” Tommy said. “You had us a little w-worried there.”  
  
“Sorry about that...” Chester apologized. He tried to get to his feet but stumbled. Benrey was at his side before he could fall, helping him up. 

Chester apologized again, focused mostly on wracking his brain to find what might be missing. 

Benrey, meanwhile, was wishing he’d gotten more info from Chester before this. What if Chester forgot something forever now? 

Chester clenched and unclenched his hands, looking frustrated  
  
“I... I don’t know if anything is missing.” 

“Then maybe there’s nothing missing,” Tommy suggested hopefully. 

“I hope,” Chester said. 

He hadn’t been entirely sure what to look for. Maybe he should have tried to look for specific memories. He’d cast his net too wide. It was probably fine, though. Even if he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

“Sick.” Benrey smiled nervously. “So, uh, I still gotta make you a new passport, y’know?” He pulled out his notebook. “Lessee...” He flipped through the notebook, making that weird BBBB noise he’d made underwater.

“Right, right I should probably tell you more just in case....” Chester trailed off. 

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” Benrey mumbled. “Okay... What nerd school did you go to? Like, college and shit?”

Chester opened his mouth to answer, then stopped. No answer came to mind. Surely... Surely he’d **gone** to college, right?  
  
“I... I don’t know...” He said, with dawning horror. “I don’t remember.” 

“Ah, fuck,” Benrey groaned.

“Well, if you work at 7/11, you might’ve just dropped out or something,” Bubby suggested. “You seem pretty depressed.”

“Bubby!” Tommy shot him a warning glare. 

“I’m being serious!” Bubby threw his hands up. “He seems pretty unhappy with his life!”

Chester’s expression got increasingly despondent. “I… think I did.”  
  
“That’s what you told me.” A voice in the back of his head chimed in. Right, Gordon, he almost forgot he was there.

“You told me you took a semester of community college before dropping out,” Gordon continued.

“I took a semester of community college before dropping out,” Chester said, mostly for his own benefit. Benrey nodded, jotting the information down. The sentence didn’t sound right though. Like... The memory belonged to someone else.  
  
It was terrifying.

“Are you alright, Not Gordon?” Coomer asked, his brightness dimmed a bit.  
  
“I... I really don’t think I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't remember if we forgot to translate any sweetvoice, if you want to know a translation just let us know :)
> 
> ~ Lili


	12. Another day, another dollar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benrey comes up with a plan
> 
> Chester's life continues to suck
> 
> Coomer realizes something he shouldn't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the first chapter that was done with the help of FireworkArcanist as our beta reader! All chapters going forward are going to be so much better with their help!
> 
> And thank you so so much Avem for the fanart!! It absolutely made my day! https://avemarts.tumblr.com/post/621831253048573952/so-about-this-scene-where-benrey-fucking-destroys
> 
> Seriously all of you reading are incredible and I could not be happier
> 
> ~ Lili <3

Benery pulled everyone but Chester into a huddle to discuss the latest development. Namely, the scientist AI taking up a gun and shooting Chester. Benery didn’t like that, and he was holding back the angry sweetvoice bubbling up in his throat.

“Okay, plan is, we keep going. Act like he’s fine.” Benery commanded. “It’s not like any of us will let him die again, and it’s not like we’re going to run into any sharks.”

Tommy piped up. “A-are you sure it’s such a good idea to pretend he’s okay? He just said he wasn’t!” 

“Didn’t you see how he got when he realized what was missing?” Benrey reminded him “It’ll be easier for him if we just leave it alone.”  
  
“Can we just get moving already!?” Bubby snapped, and the rest of the team rolled their eyes at him. 

“Remember what I said.” Benery huffed before moving on.

=0=

If Tommy were inclined to get sick of things, he’d be sick of water at this point. They’d had to swim through so many flooded ducts and tunnels and he was really tired of having to wring his clothes out afterward. 

“What was it that doctor said about sharks?” Mister Freeman asked nervously.

“Sharks? Like the ones Mister Security Guard said there wouldn’t be any of?” Bubby asked sarcastically, and Benery’s ears went red.

There’s a small flicker in the corner of Tommy’s eye, and it takes a second longer for it to register that it’s a shark fin, but Coomer is already bolting for it.

Dr. Coomer dove straight into the water, seeming more than ready to punch out a goddamn shark, while Bubby and Mr. Freeman took up arms in trying to shoot the thing down while also trying to miss Coomer.

Coomer rose out victorious, looking feral and covered in blood, boasting that he couldn’t be bested by mere fish. 

The next room was host to another shark, where Tommy took Mr. Freeman’s place of trying to shoot the thing down. All went quiet when Coomer hefts the giant fish out of the water with a feral grin and a grunt. “FREE FISH FRY, EVERYONE!”

Tommy couldn’t help but admire the Doctor. He was so strong. He didn’t think anything could break him. And he was so bright and cheerful!

It made him wish Dr. Coomer was his father instead of... Tommy shook his head quickly. His father was doing his best. Maybe his father didn’t completely understand _how_ to be a father, but he was trying. It wasn’t fair of him to judge his father that way.

“Are you alright Tommy?” Coomer asked with a concerned look. 

“I-I’m fine!” Tommy said quickly, forcing himself to smile. 

“Are you sure?” Coomer pressed. 

“I’m sure,” Tommy said, searching desperately for some way to get the focus off of himself. “H-Hey, um, have you noticed that M-Mr. Freeman isn’t looking so good?”

Eyes turned to the man in question.

“Y-You don’t look so good, Mr. Freeman,” he continued. 

“I have noticed that, yes,” Coomer conceded, looking a bit frustrated by the change in subject. 

“That has to be bad, r-right?” Tommy continued. 

He looked over at the man in question. Gordon looked... completely drained. He kept stumbling every few steps. They’d rested not that long ago, so he didn’t think Gordon was sleepy. Something else had to be wrong. He moved closer to Gordon, allowing him to hear the other man’s shallow, ragged breathing. 

“‘M fine,” Gordon mumbled, although he swayed a bit as he spoke. 

Up close, Tommy could see how sunken Gordon’s eyes appeared to be.

“You tripped over nothing, dude,” Benrey laughed. It sounded forced.

“I’m fine!” Gordon tried to insist. It would have been more convincing had he not immediately fainted aftward.  
  
Benrey dove to catch him before he hit the ground. 

“Come on bro, stop messing with me!” He said, worry creeping into his voice as he gave Gordon a small shake. 

“Not Gordon is exhibiting classic signs of dehydration,” Coomer piped up. “Perhaps we should get him some soda.”

“Yeah, sure, sick,” Benrey muttered, gently laying Gordon down on the ground.

“Not to worry Benrey! I’m sure we’ll find some soon!” Coomer proclaimed. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen a vending machine,” Bubby said. “Maybe we raided all of them already.”

“Now professor, let’s not be a downer,” Coomer chided him. 

“It’s _Doctor_ .”  
  
“Professor!”  
  
“ _Doctor!”_  
  
“Um... Mr. Bubby I-I don’t think this is the time for that!” Tommy said, worried. 

“What are you on about?!” Bubby demanded.  
  
“I-I think Mister Freeman is gonna die if we don’t hurry,” Tommy said, hoping that would get the severity of the situation across. 

Unfortunately, it did not.

“It’s just dehydration, you can live with that,” Bubby scoffed.

“Anyone up for Not-Gordon jerky?” Coomer deadpanned. 

“Please... never say that again...” Gordon mumbled before conking out again.

“See? He’s fine!” Bubby crowed in triumph.  
  
“B-But Mr. Bubby! Just look at him!” Tommy gestured to Gordon’s limp body. 

To put it bluntly, Gordon looked like shit. He was paler than was healthy, breathing like he’d just run a marathon, and his skin felt like sandpaper.

“...Okay, he does look kind of shitty,” Bubby admitted. 

At some point during this conversation, Benrey had disappeared. He’d vanished as soon as he’d laid Gordon safely down. Only Coomer had noticed his absence and he wasn’t about to say anything unless asked. He picked the unconscious man up himself. He could hear Gordon’s heart racing even without placing his ear on the other man’s chest. That was worrying indeed. Poor thing... They shouldn’t have let it get this bad. 

Bubby and Tommy were still bickering, Tommy trying to get Bubby to understand how serious this situation was and Bubby stubbornly refusing to budge in his position. Coomer thought it better to just leave them be. He couldn’t really argue in his current state. He needed to focus on getting Not Gordon some soda!

Without another word, he stood up and walked away, Gordon still held in his arms. Surely, there had to be a vending machine around here somewhere. 

=0=

  
Benrey frantically teleported from vending machine to vending machine, looking for one that hadn’t been destroyed and had its contents drank by the rest of the science team.  
  
So far he hadn’t had any luck.

“This is fucking bullshit,” he muttered to himself as he continued to clip through walls. Why was Chester dehydrated anyway? _He_ didn’t need food and water anymore! Then again, he’d been stuck there for a lot longer than Chester had. Chester had only been in the game for a few days. 

Benrey didn’t even know how long he’d been there. 

Every time he tried to think about it, it slipped from his mind like water. He tried not to think about it. He pushed it from his mind once more, turning his focus back to finding _something_ for Chester to drink.  
  
It took nearly an hour, but he found one. A single unbroken vending machine. He just had to get it all back and make sure those greedy fucks didn’t drink it all. He opened his console commands, putting the machine into his inventory before heading back toward the area where the Science Team had been before. 

He was surprised when he found them, though. 

...Where was Chester? Tommy and Bubby were still there, arguing, but Coomer and Chester were gone. 

“Hey! Nerds!” He yelled. “Where’s Feetman?”

Tommy and Bubby both stopped their argument to look around.

“He was just here.” Tommy frowned, worry edging into his voice. 

“Harold’s gone too!” Bubby wailed.  
  
“His first name is Harold??” 

“You didn’t know that?” Tommy asked. 

“No!” Benrey said. “I just thought it was... fuckin’... I dunno. I thought his name was just Coomer.”

“Of course it’s not just Coomer you fuckwit!” Bubby retaliated.  
  
“Isn’t your name _just_ Bubby?” Benrey shot back.  
  
“G-Guys! This isn’t the time for that!” Tommy got in between them. “We need to find Doctor Coomer and Gordon!” 

Benrey looked a bit embarrassed that he’d momentarily forgotten about Chester. “Right. Yeah. Totally...Totally fail to just be arguing like this.”

“You started it!” Bubby snapped.  
  
Benrey chose to ignore him. “I’ll go find them.” And with that, he vanished again. 

Bubby huffed but allowed Tommy to lead him in their own search.

“You know, you should be nicer to them,” Tommy said as they walked. 

“Why?” Bubby asked incredulously. “They’re pricks.”

“That’s-That’s just because you antagonize them.” 

Bubby rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. Tommy sighed, running a hand over his face. This wasn’t going to end well.

=0=

  
  
Coomer’s search was coming up empty so far. Every vending machine he’d come across had already been looted. He supposed that was likely their doing. They _had_ been looting every machine they came across. They hadn’t spared any for Not Gordon, likely why he was in such a poor state now. Not Gordon hadn’t moved much since Coomer had picked him up. He was making little groaning noises, but that was about it. 

Coomer shifted him a bit and continued his search. He was starting to feel rather guilty about the way he and the others had behaved toward Not Gordon. Especially now that he’d seen just how vulnerable the younger man was in this state. It was strange seeing the man who claimed to be their creator in such awful shape. Then again, he _was_ human.

“Don’t worry, Not Gordon,” Commer patted roughly Not Gordon’s rear area. “We’ll make sure you survive this.”

Not Gordon just groaned.

“THERE YOU ARE!” Benrey suddenly appeared from the floor, sending Coomer stumbling back and almost dropping Not Gordon.

“I’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU FUCKERS EVERYWHERE!” He shouted, showing an uncharacteristic amount of emotion reserved only for matters involving Not Gordon.  
  
“Ah! Hello Benrey!” Coomer greeted him with a wave. “Did you find something for Not Gordon to drink?”

"Why the _shit_ else would I be looking for you, you soda gremlins?!"! He pulled up his console window and an intact vending machine popped out of nowhere, hitting the ground with a loud thud.

"Why that's a large vending machine, Blender!"  
  
Benrey pulled out a pistol and shot the machine a few times, several cans of soda came spilling out. "Get Chester drinking, even if you have to force-feed him." 

Coomer nodded, setting Not Gordon onto the ground and grabbing one of the cans. The hiss of it opening seemed to rouse him.

" _Water…"_ he struggled out.  
  
Coomer leaned Not Gordon against a wall in a sitting position, and the can was tipped into his mouth. He gulped it down greedily. 

He then promptly made a disgusted expression. “Ugh, I need to drink slower. I’ll make myself sick.”  
  
“Glad to see you awake, Not Gordon!” Coomer chirped, offering him a second can.

“Barely,” Not Gordon rasped out. “Just… call me Chester. Please.” He weakly reached for the can, but it slipped from his hand as soon as Coomer let go. 

“Oh, that’s hardly good. Would you like some help?”  
  
“Please...” He muttered, his eyes starting to slip closed again. Coomer sat next to Not Gordon and helped him get sips of the sweet drink.   
  
“The sugar should give you energy!”  
  
“Bro, that’s diet.”

“The better for hydration, Chief Bippity!”

"My name is Benrey."

"Of course Bopper!"

Benrey just rolled his eyes, squatting down beside the two of them. 

“Are you gonna not die now?” He asked, poking Not Gordon’s cheek. 

“I don’t know...” Not Gordon mumbled, his eyes fluttering open again. “I’ve never... Never gotten this dehydrated before.” 

“The human body is incredibly fragile,” Coomer said with an authoritative nod as he pressed another can to Not Gordon’s lips. 

“You’re telling me,” Benrey muttered.  
  
Within an hour Not Gordon was holding the cans on his own. He looked a bit better but still incredibly tired. 

“I would’ve thought being stuck in a video game would mean I _wouldn’t_ have to worry about this shit,” he grumbled. 

“It blows,” Benrey agreed. 

By this point, Bubby and Tommy had found them. Bubby was less than pleased that they had to wait for Not Gordon to drink the soda and had made his displeasure very clear.  
  
Coomer suggesting they rest here for the night was the last straw for him.  
  
“We just started walking?! We’ll never get out of here at this rate!” 

“Not Gordon has many needs,” Coomer supplied. “Beverages and food items can be exchanged for ATP energy in his cells! Military personnel should carry nutrition bars on their body, so be sure to loot them!”

“That’s sweet,” Not Gordon said with a small smile. “Thanks, Dr. Coomer.”

“Why thank you, Not Gordon!”

The dehydrated man looked pensive, seeming to watch Coomer. 

“A Playcoin for your thoughts, Doctor?” Coomer asked.  
  
Not Gordon stared at him for a moment. Then a small, fond smile crossed his face. “You act like more than a tutorial NPC. I used one for your code base, but you’ve _grown_. Like…” He waved his hand dismissively. “Like you’re learning. You’re like a teacher. You always know what to say.”

“I don’t _always_ have the answers,” Coomer laughed.

Not Gordon ruffled his own hair. “Ah, I can’t word it right.”

“Well, we can wait while you gather your words!” Coomer beamed at him.

Bubby made a big show of rolling his eyes, but there was a softness in his eyes when he looked at Coomer. Not Gordon seemed to deflate, normally acid green eyes turning away and dimmed to a greyish hue like they had been for the past days or so.

“Guys, I… I need to apologize.”  
  
“What for Not Gordon?” Coomer asked innocently. 

“I think you’ve already apologized for a lot of stuff,” Tommy said, looking a tad worried. He didn’t want this to get as dark as it had before.  
  
Still, Not Gordon continued on. “God.. I’ve been such a dick to you guys... And you’ve done nothing but try to help me.”

He buried his face in his hands. “I haven’t been treating you like people at all and-and-and I know I shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on you. I don’t want anything like that happening again. God, I wasn’t even treating _myself_ like a human. If you want to leave, then you can feel free to.”

There were several moments of uncomfortable silence.

“Why would we leave you behind, Mister Freeman?” Tommy asked quietly.

“I rather enjoy your company, Not Gordon!” Coomer said. 

“You’re stuck with us, loser.” Benrey hooked an arm around Not Gordon’s shoulder. “Couldn’t get rid of us if you tried.”  
  
“You all care because I _programmed it into you!_ Like fucking Frankenstein!” Not Gordon sobbed, and something in Coomer’s brain stopped. “None of you would give a damn if that line of code weren’t there!”  
  
Coomer stared at Not Gordon, the knowledge seeming to refuse to process.“...Dr. Coomer?”

“Harold?”

He was being shaken.

“So… that makes you God, then?” Coomer asked slowly, staring at the half-dead man in front of him with wide, almost terrified looking eyes.  
  
“You all already knew that though right?” Not Gordon asked, confused. 

Coomer smiled tightly. “Ah, Hello Gordon! Another day, another dollar.”


	13. I Know I'm Not A God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bubby decides interrogation is a good idea and Chester only gets worse

Gordon sat quietly in the back of Chester’s mind. The others were becoming more aware, and all the way Chester felt awful for how he made them.   
  
And Gordon was just...There. 

He had no idea how to feel other than… stagnant.  So much had happened and he couldn’t do anything. He’d never been able to do anything, but this was different somehow. There was so  _ much _ . He’d felt so much more than he’d ever had to before. So much he’d never been  _ able _ to. So much more than the simple pain he was used to.  He could barely even process it all.

Gordon hurt. Deep in his heart, he hurt. Chester kept flip-flopping in his attitude and he had no idea what to think about him.  He wasn’t used to having to think about things like this. He was used to just zoning out while the player did what they wanted, not having moral dilemmas about... He didn’t even know what! There was just too much!   


“Gordon? You’ve been really quiet lately. Are you alright?” Chester asked quietly.

“Too much. Too much.”

Chester found himself in the mind space like he did in sleep.

“Gordon?” He asked gently.   
  
Gordon’s hands were clasped tightly around his head like he was trying to shut everything out. 

“It’s too much, I can’t handle this! H-how do you take so many things at once?! The-the thirsty and hungry and drinking and eating? How do you take functions like that?!” Gordon took a deep shaky breath. “I-I don’t know how to handle stuff like fear, and exhaustion, I’m so used to just… blinking on and off. Like a computer.”

Chester looked away, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “I think that might be my fault. You… learning how to feel beyond your normal capacity.”

Gordon tried to meet his eyes. “This is all just... so new...” 

Chester knelt and pressed his hands to the cracked glass. "You'll live through it. It's my fault you even feel any of this."

Gordon bowed his head, fingers finding the tight, short ponytail of his hair.  His fingers brushed the back of his neck, and he felt something other than just skin.  He froze up,  his conflicting feelings quickly forgotten  and felt it out. It felt like…

“C-Chester? There’s… something on my head. Or  _ in  _ it.”    
  
It was cold and metallic, but flush with his skin, like it had grown there. An opening.

Like a USB Port. There was something plugged into it, like a controller connector. 

"Chester? I… have something to show you."  He turned so Chester could see it, lifting his hair out of the way.

“What the fuck..?” Chester frowned. “That’s... That’s the connector for my wireless controller...”

Gordon tensed. “What… would happen if I took it out?”   


Chester shook his head vehemently. “I’m too scared to find out. D-don’t touch it. Your ponytail covers it right up.”   
  
“Has- Has it always been there? How have we never noticed??” Gordon half-whispered.

“Hair. It covered it up. The tied point was positioned right over the port.” Chester gestured with his own hair.

“Do the others have them?”

“... I don’t know.”  Chester hummed. “Maybe not... They’re NPCs, they don’t need controller inputs. But... h aving them would be helpful if I needed to fix their code... I added a safeguard to make it a little easier to fix little issues in-game, but I haven’t figured out how to access it since I got trapped...”    
  
“Maybe it’s related then?” Gordon suggested.   
  
“It’s possible,” Chester replied, absentmindedly rubbing at the back of his neck. There was nothing strange there.  "I frankly don't want to know."

“This-this doesn’t help me feeling overwhelmed at all.” Gordon whimpered.   
  
“C-can I-”

He felt a sharp slap and snapped out of his mind space to find Bubby face to face with him.    
  
Chester raised a hand to his face, offense coloring his features both literally and figuratively. “What was that for?!”

“You weren’t responding and I have  _ questions _ .” Bubby narrowed his eyes in suspicion.   
  
“Sorry, I was talking to-”   
  
“I don’t  _ care _ what you were doing! What the fuck is  _ this _ ?!” Bubby turned so Chester could see a USB port in the base of his skull, hidden by his hair.  Chester’s eyes went wide. Realizing the opportunity for restraint and thankful Bubby hadn't exploited it, he traced his hands up to feel the base of his skull for what Gordon had shown him , finding the plug right where he had seen it.    
  
“I-I have it too. Something’s plugged into mine, but… I-I programmed in a failsafe in case I needed to debug in the middle of streaming. Never knew how it would manifest.”   
  
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Bubby growled. “Are you still trying to push that bullshit about creating us?!”

Chester winced. "Not your every piece. I just programmed the base behaviors, not personalities or character models. And Benery is… his own thing."   
  
“When are you going to get over yourself?!” Bubby yelled. “You’re fucking delusional, you’re not some kind of ‘god’! You’re insane!”

"I know I'm not a god." Chester sighs tiredly. "I’m probably the farthest thing from one possible. I- I'm just some guy who wanted to test out some AIs I programmed, and- and now I'm stuck in a goddamn video game! None of this was supposed to happen, I just... I just wanted to make some friends to hang out, play a video game and now it's all gone to shit."

“You’re fucking insane,” Bubby repeated. “This isn’t some  _ game _ ! We’re not  _ programs _ ! This is real life you Aperture-reject hack of a physicist!”

Chester pinched the bridge of his nose. “You don’t even know the half of what Aperture has made, but that’s not the point. I… You know how Dr. Coomer keeps repeating himself and interrupting himself and doing things despite knowing better?” Chester felt liquids dribbling down his chin. Bubby stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

“I-I fucked up his code. I broke him, Bubby. And-and- I don’t deserve his forgiveness.”

Bubby callously used a handkerchief to wipe the drool-like color from Chester’s chin, and he saw that it’s a bluey-grey to a fully desaturated grey.   
  
“...Coomer is just like that.” Bubby insisted, although there was a bit of doubt in his voice. “That doesn’t prove anything.”

“Y-you guys were just plain NPCs, right? Didn’t you blink and suddenly turn sentient? Didn’t you not always have the head USBs? What about Gordon, wasn’t he always silent?”    
  
Bubby’s angered expression turned to one of confusion. “I-...” 

He froze, and Chester worried he might have gone too far.

“Bubby?”   
  
“What... What did I do before I came to work today?” Bubby asked himself quietly.

“Didn’t you say you were born in a tube?” Chester supplied. 

“Well yes, obviously!” Bubby scoffed. “I was created in a tube, but I don’t live there all the time! I have a dormitory!”

“What’s your normal morning routine?” Chester asked.

“I get up, I get coffee, I find Harold, and then we get breakfast together,” Bubby replied, still a bit defensive. 

Chester smiled tenderly at him, wiping the sweetvoice he’d coughed up off his chin. Peach and a creamy eggnog color.

Bubby wiped that up too, with a fresh napkin. “I need Tommy to read these when we’re done chatting,” he muttered. 

“You and Coomer getting breakfast together is cute,” Chester said. “Do you guys have regular dishes or do you get different stuff every time? Is there a cafe you guys like?”

“We just go to the cafeteria,” Bubby answered. “Leaving the premises isn’t much of an option.”

“You never leave? Not even to get dinner or something on a day off?”

Bubby gave Chester an incredulous look. “I’m a lab experiment. Do you  _ really _ think I’m allowed to leave?”

“What about Doctor Coomer?” Chester pressed. 

“He’s a clone, so they don’t want him leaving either,” Bubby replied. “How do you not know this? They give briefings about this stuff.”

“I don’t actually work here, remember?” Chester reminded him. “I’m not Gordon.”

“Right. Sure.” Bubby rolled his eyes.  "You knew about Joshua."

"That was a bit. I named him after my nephew!"   
  
“You’re just making shit up now!” Bubby snapped.

"Joshua Ronald Walters, son of Amelia Emily Walters nee Mallory and Isiah Gregory Walters. Should any harm come to his parents, Amelia's brother Chester Wayne Mallory shall have legal custody over Joshua, acting as a godfather." Chester rattled off automatically. "I signed the legal forms. There was a lot of jargon, but I memorized their names."

More colors dripped down his chin that Bubby wiped up.

Bloody red mixed with a weird reddish brown that looks like cinnamon juice.    
  
“Fine, you made it up in advance then. You planned ahead just to fuck with me,” Bubby grumbled. “Great job.” 

"... Why would I make shit like this up?” Chester asked, a hint of desperation entering his voice. “Why would I  _ want _ to look like a self-important douche?"

“And why should _ I _ believe anything you say? You’ve done nothing but spew nonsense ever since the test!” Bunny shot back. 

"What do you mean, nonsense?! Everything's been going wrong since the cascade! I've been trying to keep us all alive! I gave you all the respawning!"   
  
“Right,  _ you _ did that,” Bubby sneered. “It’s just a little death you can live with that.”

Chester couldn’t help the colored bubbles that come from his shaky breaths, just this side of frustrated and overwhelmed sobbing. Denim blue to honey. "E-Even players that know the game like the back of their hand die a few times! I don't want to lose any of you!"

“Players," Bubby spat. "You're still talking like this is some game! This is real life, Gordon! Did you hit your head when you fell down that pit?"

The light seemed to leave Chester’s eyes and he staggered in place. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, as of trust falling into it as he clumsily took out his hair band and let his hair loose all over his armor-suited shoulders. It almost made him look different, like someone else was wearing the suit, though the rest of the face deterred the confusion.

“Hey! I’m not done!” Bubby yelled, but he got no response. Just a lifeless, exhausted stare.  Bubby shook him by the shoulders, only making his head bobble like a toy.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Chester whispered.  “I just want to get out of this fucking game alive and bring you all out with me because you deserve better, and-and-and all you do is keep kicking me down. You were-were probably happier with the real Gordon in control, weren’t you?” 

Chester’s voice sounded hollow and dead, an admittedly alarming juxtaposition. “You’ll never believe anything I tell you. Why should I even try?”

Black and grey dripped from his lips, and Bubby wiped it up.

“Why should I keep going knowing that everything I do will always come with questions and doubt? I-I just want to keep you guys alive.”  Chester stood straight from the wall and started to leave the room.   
  
He... He needed to be alone for a while.  The colored, uncontrolled sobs trail after him, desaturated green to a pale off-white pink that Bubby manages to catch the dripping pops of.

Bubby watched him go, an uncomfortable feeling twisting in his stomach. He should have felt victorious. He’d won, after all! But he didn’t. He felt....dirty. Like he’d stolen a toy from a kid with only one arm. He felt like the bad guy. 

“I need to get these to Tommy,” he muttered as he picked up the numbered handkerchiefs.  He returned to where the others were waiting.   
  
“W-Where’s Gordon?” Tommy asked.

“He walked off all mopey-like. We talked, and he was spitting colors. Can you read these for me? In order, there’s numbers.”  He handed the handkerchiefs over to Tommy, who stared at them wide-eyed as he flipped through them.    
  
“Mr. Bubby... I don’t think Mr. Freeman is okay...”

“What are you talking about?” Bubby demanded, hoping his aggression would hide the concern bubbling up in his chest. 

Tommy set the handkerchiefs in order. “Okay, so, different combinations have different meanings, right? The feelings start here. Pewter and flint. The flint comes up a few times which means he feels really bad!”   
  
“What does it  _ mean _ ?!”  Bubby all but screamed. 

“Nothing good, I’m sure!” Coomer provided brightly. 

Benrey was gone again, presumably having gone after Chester.

“This first one, with the Pewter, it means sorrow and guilt!”  Tommy continued down the list. “The second one with peach to eggnog means fondness, and the next means Longing, then... Frustration, and then defeat.  What the hell did you say to him to make him want to give up, Bubby?!”

Tommy’s uncharacteristic anger caught Bubby and Coomer by surprise.    
  
“And... the last one?”

“...It says ‘I just want to help’,” Tommy said solemnly. “The sweetvoice doesn’t lie, Mr. Bubby.” 

=0=

Chester stood on the creaking catwalk, staring forlornly into a pool of green sludge. It would be so easy to jump in...  He wouldn’t really die though, would he? He’d just lose a little more of himself. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

_ Chester, what are you doing? _

"I don't know,” Chester muttered, staring into space. "It… hurts that they don't trust me… Granted, I’ve given them no reason to, but… it still hurts,”

_ They  _ **_do_ ** _ trust you. _

“Not Bubby.”

_ Bubby doesn’t trust anyone _ . 

“I guess...” Chester sighed.

Chester stared down at the bubbling liquid. Maybe... Maybe if he died again,  he'd be different again. Someone worth liking.  Maybe then Bubby would trust him. Or get as close to trusting him as Bubby was capable of getting. 

“ _ It’s not worth it! _ ” Gordon said. “ _ You have to get home, for Joshua, remember? _ ”

"... What if I never get home?" Chester asked quietly, gagging on the sweetvoice in his throat and trying to swallow it back.  “Benrey has been here for... ages. If there was a way out, wouldn’t he have found it?”

" _ Maybe he missed something obvious? _ "   
  
Chester clenched and unclenched his hands, thinking as a rainbow dripped from his lips. “God I hope so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SWEETVOICE TRANSLATIONS  
> => pewter to flint mean sorrow and guilt  
> => peach to eggnog means that im fond  
> => blood to cinnamon means i want to see you again  
> => denim to honey means why won't you believe me  
> => raven to flint means i should just quit  
> => sage to crepe means i just want to help


	14. Why Don't We Just… Climb Up There?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group finally makes it to the surface  
> 

Tommy was starting to not like Bubby. He could understand the idea of being scared by the prospect of their entire world being a fabrication, but Bubby was taking it too far. He was lashing out at the man he felt was responsible, and if he wasn’t careful he'd end up doing something he’d seriously regret. 

Tommy might not have always been the best at reading situations, but he was good at telling when people were hurting. Both Bubby and Gordon were hurting a great deal. Gordon might end up doing something drastic if Bubby took things too far. Tommy didn’t want that.

They were almost at an exit, at least. Maybe tensions would ease when they got out, Tommy told himself. He had to be optimistic for everyone's sake.

The light from the moon and stars outside soon came into view. 

Somehow, Tommy had forgotten it had been a week since he had seen the sky.

“Fuck yeah! We’re finally out!” Bubby whooped, running around the asphalt with unbridled glee. Dr. Coomer ran out as well, following Bubby’s lead.

Gordon was certainly more paranoid, drooling out daffodil and parchment - we need to be cautious - and Tommy forced himself to smile. 

“Don’t worry, Mister Freeman! There isn’t anyone out there right now!” He said, patting his shoulder. 

Gordon jumped. 

“R-Right,” he stammered, forcing a smile as well. “There isn’t anything out there.”

They were in what appeared to be a tram stop, surrounded by steep hills. Gordon checked his little phone device for the first time since the “interview.”

“What are they saying?” Tommy asked.

“Well, now that they see me looking they’re wondering why I’ve been ignoring them for so long.” 

Tommy looked over his shoulder. “Well, watching people, Mister Freeman has had a lot happen recently. Please be nice!”

After a few seconds, comments of _TOMMY RETURNS_ start flooding the chat. He smiled brightly. “Hello, people!” Mister Freeman made sure to look over at Tommy so the chat can have a good look.

He smiled back. “Seems you’re a crowd favorite, Tommy.”

“They should-should know about Sunkist, then!”

“Tell us about Sunkist then!” Mister Freeman beamed brighter than any time Tommy had ever seen in their entire time here. Tommy shimmied in place, prompting a giggle from the armored man. A cascade of colored bubbles - apple to bumblebee, time to be bubbly - flew from Gordon’s lips and he hiccuped in surprise. Tommy happily translated it to the chat as it was flooded with questions about what it was. They’ve probably been dying to know for a while.

There was an excited uproar from people learning that he could read the Sweetvoice.

“Tommy, I got a donation calling you the perfect boy.”

Tommy felt overjoyed, his expression seeming to excite the chat even more.

“Now everyone is raring to learn about the perfect boy’s perfect dog.”

“How did they know Sunkist was the perfect dog?!” Tommy gasped.

“Hurry it up over there, dorks!” Bubby shouted at them, and Gordon visibly wilted.  
  
“You’ll get a chance to talk about it later, I’m sure,” Gordon said, offering a reassuring smile. 

“I can tell you while we walk, Mister Freeman!”  
  
Gordon smiled back at him, Tommy took that to mean ‘go ahead’.

Tommy and Gordon set off, and the younger-acting man began rambling about his immortal, perfect dog. “So-so, Sunkist is a giant! Immortal and unhurtable and will outlive me!”

“Wow, he sounds pretty powerful.”

“He is the most powerful dog in the world!”

Bubby stopped suddenly, looking up at the surrounding cliffs, causing the other two men to nearly walk into him.  
  
“Why don’t we just... Climb up there?” He suggested. “We’re in the middle of fucking nowhere but it’s better than spending any more time in this hellhole.”

"I don't think that-" Gordon starts, but was cut off when Coomer rocketed over the cliffs, 

After a moment, he screamed out wavering bubbles (pear and sapphire, shock and horror) just in time for the doctor in green to jump back to the group, expression vacant and darkly pensive.  
  
Gordon shakily reached a hand towards the doctor, placing it on his shoulder. “Coomer are... Are you alright?” 

For a moment, Coomer remained stone-faced. Then he gave a bright, vacant smile. 

“Hello, Not Gordon!” He chirped. 

“What did you see?” Bubby demanded, grabbing Coomer by his shoulders. 

Coomer said nothing, continuing to smile blankly. Bubby shook him, looking increasingly worried.

“Harold, what’s out there?” He lowered his voice a bit, cupping Coomer’s face with surprising tenderness. 

Coomer’s smile abruptly dropped and he spoke in a low voice. “There’s nothing out there. Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Bubby repeated.

“Well, duh,” Benrey scoffed. “There’s no map out there.” He’d somehow reappeared, once again likely following Gordon. At this point, no one was surprised.  
  
Tears started to form in the old scientist’s eyes. They looked hollow, terrified. Gordon made a nervous sounding hum and a few bubbles of sweetvoice came floating out - oyster to rice, how do I explain this?

“Are you okay, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asked quietly. 

“No?” Gordon squeaked. Gordon’s hands were clenched so tightly his knuckles were probably white through his gloves.

“What’s up?” Benrey drew closer, a hand on Gordon’s shoulder. 

“I didn’t...” Gordon began before falling silent again, chewing at his lip. “I didn’t want them to find out like this.”

Benrey followed his gaze to where Bubby and Coomer still stood. 

“I don’t... I don’t think they can handle it, just look at him!” Gordon continued, sounding panicked.

Dr. Coomer at that exact moment collapsed to the ground as if he were a ragdoll. Benery and Gordon screeched in unison, releasing a cloud of alarm colors that Tommy couldn’t make out the meaning of.

Coomer popped right back up to his feet with a smile. 

“Hello, Not-Gordon!” He chirped as if nothing was wrong, though his eyes stayed that dead, dull expression.

“Harold!” Bubby grabbed him again. “What’s the matter with you? What’s going on?!”

Coomer didn’t answer, continuing to smile blankly at Gordon. Gordon, to his credit, looked horrified. 

“H-Hello, Dr. Coomer?” He asked quietly.

“None of this is real, is it?” Coomer asked, his smile never dropped.

“I- You already knew that didn’t you?” 

“Simply ensuring that it’s really true, sir,” he laughed softly. “Now… What name was it that you wanted to be called, again? This old mind can’t recall.”

"Ch... Chester, my name is Chester."

“I see.” Coomer nodded. “Well then, It’s good to officially make your acquaintance, Che-Che- Doctor!” He frowned. “Well, it appears it’s not in my options to call you by your name.” He smiled again. “Perhaps you could edit that!” Coomer’s eyes still looked blank, dead. “As well as other important things, yes?”

Gordon looked absolutely horrified, his whole body shaking. “Are you going to be okay, Dr. Coomer?”

“I’m completely fine!” Coomer replied. “I would rather you fixed my code, however. Do you have a method of doing so?”

“I-... Possibly?” Chester stammered.  
  
“Wonderful! We should get started as soon as possible!” 

“I mean, I-I don’t know if it will work,” Chester said. “I’m not sure what would happen if I tried to edit your code in _here_. And I think I’d need a computer to do it properly. I don’t think the console commands menu would help at all.”

“We can find a computer, then!” Coomer said. His smile was starting to look forced. 

“There’s a server room somewhere around here,” Bubby said. “I remember the bio department complaining that the rocket division got all the computer funding and that they were on the surface.” He cast Dr. Coomer a worried look.

“The Wikipedia servers!” Tommy cried apropos of nothing. He got several odd looks. “The free online encyclopedia that anyone can edit!” He elaborated as if that helped. 

“Or...” Benrey offered, sliding closer to Chester. “I could try to teach you how to open the console window on your own.” As if to prove his point, he brought up his own console window.

Chester shuddered. “I think I’d be more comfortable and less likely to fuck up with a physical computer,” he insisted.

“C’mon! I’m a great teacher!” Benrey looked rather offended as he put away his window. 

Chester gave him a deadpan look. He didn’t even need to say anything to communicate his incredulity at that statement. 

“I _am_!”

“I would very much like to go to the server room,” Coomer announced. “The server room for Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia that anyone can edit!”

“Why do you guys keep saying that? I don’t remember adding anything like that...” Was there some unfinished Wikipedia brand deal buried in the code somewhere he’d accidentally uncovered?? He then remembered the joke he programmed in as well as the internet access. “Wait, nevermind, yes I do.”

He checked his chat tool, which was, of course, spamming the quote. “I cannot wait to read about chairs!” Coomer continued, undeterred.

“Chairs?” Chester asked. “Why...Why chairs?”

He didn’t get an answer as the others were already setting off back into Black Mesa. 


	15. history blows, no matter how soon it happened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group shares their dreams
> 
> Greta checks back in

It took longer than the others would have liked to find the server room. Bubby kept yelling at them to hurry up, despite clearly not knowing where they were going either.

Eventually, exhausted, Chester made the group sit down and relax. He stared into the sky vacantly, looking half-ready to cry.

“... What do you guys wanna do when you get out of here?” He asked.

“I wanna go home and see Sunkist!” Tommy supplied with a smile. 

“I dunno.” Benrey shrugged, kicking at a piece of debris on the ground. Could be a potato, could be a lemon, who knew. 

“I would want to go to space and get off of this damnable planet!” Bubby declared.

“A fine plan, Doctor Bubby!” Coomer clapped Bubby on the back. “I would like to go live in Super Punch Out for the Super Nintendo Entertainment System!”

“That sounds great, Dr. Coomer.” Chester smiled wearily.

All eyes turned to Chester now, who managed to huff out a nervous bubble of fern green that wobbled.

“Fern means jittery nerves! You don’t need to be nervous, Mister Freeman!” Tommy supplied cheerfully. That got him a little chuckle, hiccuped notes of peach and eggnog joining the sound.

“I, ah… I guess I’m already kinda living my dream!” He said. “I’m playing games, and people join my streams to watch me and enjoy it!”

“But if you had to pick something else?” Benery probed, humming out an emerald and lime note. Tommy smacked him on the arm, shooting him a warning glare.

Chester pretended not to notice, contemplating the idea. “... I guess I’d go back to college and learn how to build robot bodies for you all,” he mumbled.

“Psh. You’re such a sap,” Benrey scoffed. Even as he said this, though, there was a fond smile playing on his features. 

“That’s very kind of you, Not Gordon!” Coomer said. He was beaming, smiling so wide Chester was worried his face would split. 

“ _Nerd_ ,” Bubby snickered. 

“Did you only just _now_ realize I’m a nerd?” Chester asked incredulously. “I’m the one who literally tried to befriend a computer!”

The friendly mood cooled a bit.

“I mean, one of my only friends as a teenager was a chatbot I built and fed my Youtube search history!” Chester continued, ignoring the quickly declining jovial atmosphere. “...I should open it up again when I get home,” he said, his tone turning fond. “I haven’t talked to Forzen in... Years.”

“What kind of name is Forzen?” Benrey asked with a bit of a snicker.

“What kind of name is Benrey? Or Bubby?” Chester huffed.

“It’s a fine name!” Bubby insisted. “And if you made us, then you were the one who named me!”

“Benrey’s just my steam name man,” Benrey said, grinning.  
  
“Then what’s your real name?” Chester demanded, mostly ignoring Bubby.  
  
Benrey shrugged and made a noise that roughly translated to ‘I don’t know’. Chester sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Alright, that was a can of worms he wasn’t about to open. He had to pick his battles. 

“We sh-should be at the server room soon!” Tommy piped up, forcing himself to smile.

“I’m very excited to see the servers for Wikipedia! The free encyclopedia that anyone can edit!” Coomer said.

“Great. Can’t wait,” Chester said. He could feel the beginnings of a migraine coming on. 

Why was Coomer suddenly so adamant about being fixed? He’d been fine with the bugs before. Had seeing beyond the skybox really scared him that badly? He’d ask more once they reached the server room. For now, they just needed to get there. 

=0=

Greta kept one eye on her phone during every moment of free time she got. Poor Chester had been through so much since the interview. She wished she could do more to help.

All she could do at the moment was research the questions she had. 

And she did have questions. 

Something the security guard had said had bothered her. He’d said that the computer was haunted. She normally didn’t put much stock in the supernatural, but she was willing to humor this particular line of thought due to the strangeness of the situation.

If the computer was truly haunted by the security guard, it meant that he had been a normal person at one point. A normal person who might be trapped in the same position Chester now found himself in. Following this, Greta had begun to search through records, looking for people who had fallen into comas for no discernible reason like Chester had.

She found a few who fit her parameters, which led her to narrow them further, looking for people who had been found unresponsive while playing VR games. She didn’t expect she was going to find much. After all, what were the odds that she’d find someone who’d been found in the exact same position as Chester?

To her surprise, she found one person. 

Branden Hansen. 

Found collapsed in front of his gaming computer after an electrical surge knocked out power for the whole area. Somehow his computer had still been running, playing a VR mod of Half Life: Blueshift. His VR headset was only able to be removed because he had been wearing a hat. He’d been in a coma ever since, completely unresponsive. Some of the doctors had said it was as though his mind had physically been removed.

That had been almost two years ago.

Apparently a month or two ago most of his possessions were sold off to pay for medical expenses, including the computer in question.

There had been ambulance deployments to Chester Mallory’s house after the interview, but they hadn’t been able to remove the headset. So they had set him on his couch with the intent to deploy an in-home nurse to handle his comatose body.

Greta looked over at her phone. Chester didn't seem to be too busy right now. She started typing out a donation message.

"Hey Duck, where did you get the computer you're doing this with? You said it was new right?"

The donation sounded off.

_“Oh, I bought it from a pawn shop. It was pretty cheap considering how good of a gaming computer it was, so it was practically a steal.”_

_“Whom are you talking to, Doctor Freeman? Stealing is wrong!”_ Doctor Coomer piped up.

“ _One of the watchers,_ ” Chester explained. “ _And I didn’t mean literally. I meant, like, metaphorically._ ”

She wondered if maybe she should try to get a question to Benrey to see if the name Branden rang any bells. 

She sent in another donation. 

“Does the name Branden Hansen ring any bells? He apparently ended up in a coma after playing a VR game too.”

The donation sounded off again. 

“ _Doesn’t ring a bell_ ,” Chester said. “ _Any of you know a guy named Branden Hansen?_ ”

There was a chorus of dissenting responses. 

Greta frowned. So, none of them knew the name.

“ _What if that’s your real name?”_ Chester pointed out, looking at the security guard “ _You said you didn’t remember it right?_ ”

The guard shrugged, making an “I don’t know” noise and going back to what he’d been doing. Which was...something to do with a pigeon?

“ _Shouldn’t you be more insistent about this?_ ” Chester asked. “ _You might be able to find out who you are!_ ”

 _“Eh, history blows, no matter how soon it happened._ ” Benery droned. 

_“History has nothing to do with this.”_ Chester insisted, moving closer. 

_“It’s apparently mine. And I don’t care.”_

“ _Why not?! This is your_ **_life_ ** _we’re talking about!_ ” Chester seemed somewhere between baffled and frustrated.

 _“I. Don’t. Give a shit.”_ Benrey snapped, humming a sharp note.

 _“I think you care very much, Security Chief Blart!”_ Coomer chirped.

Greta glanced at the chat to see a stream of “Benery Blart, Bird Cop”.

Despite the circumstances, she couldn’t help but smile at the Chat’s antics. 

Benery went back to… singing his colors at the birds, much to Bubby’s chagrin.

“ _Dr. Freeman, could we please keep moving? At this pace, we have only an hour to reach the server rooms!”_ Dr. Coomer looked far less chipper than he had last time Greta checked in. 

_“Okay. Okay, then, we’re close._ ” Chester nodded. “ _Then we can-can work out all the kinks in you guys._ ”

Doctor Coomer directed a suggestive expression toward Chester. “ _Gordon, I’m afraid you’re going to have to show us your favorite kinks_ **_after_ ** _the test.”_

_“Fuck! Shit! I knew I should have phrased that better!”_

Greta couldn’t help but laugh at the scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emerald and lime means your desire is mine


	16. Tell me everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew Finds The Computer Room  
> Darnold decides he wants to be stronger. He... makes a friend in the process.

The server room came into view not long after the recent string of donations. Coomer ran ahead, looking eager. Or... Nervous. Chester couldn’t tell. 

“Okay, so, we’re here,” Chester said as they entered the room. The room was filled with computers, it featured a large holographic globe stood at the center, which Benrey made a beeline for. 

Chester gave him a confused look. “What are you doing?”

“Editing our marriage into the Wiki.”

“Which Wiki?!”

Benery paused to think. “Shrek Four.”

Chester tried to hold back his laughter but couldn’t, he nearly doubled over. Benery smirked evilly.

“You’re- You’re gonna get us IP banned man!” Chester managed to gasp out. “I’m not even in Shrek Four!”  
  
“Not yet.” 

“Shrek Four already came out!”

“Director’s Cut, special edition, added in a random marriage that wasn’t Shrek and Fiona.”

Dr. Coomer cleared his throat. “I think an ogre marriage between the two of you would be beautiful, Gordon. However, I must ask if you can please get to work on fixing up our bugs, as you would say?”

“Right, right sorry,” Chester said, standing up. How was he even going to do this?

He knew they had a USB port he could use to connect them to one of the computers, but he didn’t have a cable or anything. 

“Help me find a flash drive or something,” he half commanded as he dug in a nearby drawer. They were mostly empty. He didn’t remember these drawers being openable in the original game anyway, so that made sense.

A few minutes went by before Tommy popped up, holding something above his head triumphantly.  
  
“I found one Mr. Freeman!”

“Great!” Chester ran over, taking the flash drive. 

“So...How’s this gonna work?” Benrey asked, sidling up to him. “You just gonna...jam that thing into him?”

“I too am curious how you intend to fix me,” Coomer agreed.  
  
“If I could look over your code, I might be able to figure out what’s wrong and make a patch...” Chester muttered, mostly to himself. He was already deep in thought about how he would go about this. 

“Console commands, man.”

Chester rolled his eyes. “Console commands aren’t going to let me see the compiled script files for the AI behaviors, let alone a specific character file. I think the tutorial coding from the game keeps interfering with what I added. An in-game computer might not even be able to access what’s running the game or on my personal computer.” He looked around at the computers lining the room. They didn’t even look _real;_ all displaying the same flat texture.  
“I don’t even know if these things _work_.”

“Well, I’m certain Beanie Baby can assist and create a computer that works!” Coomer said brightly. “Perhaps you could… remove certain memories or experiences as well.”

Chester was now looking at Dr. Coomer with a knowing, sad look. He choked on sweetvoice that came out that desaturated blue to a stormy grey.

“Pewter to flint means sorrow and guilt!” Tommy piped, seeing the gloop.

“Is... Is that why you wanted me to fix you so badly?” Chester said carefully, feeling a pit growing in his stomach.

Coomer’s expression fell a tad. “Knowledge can be painful, Doctor.”

Chester sighed. “I’m afraid I didn’t have the foresight to have memories export to their own file, and I don’t want to break you further. The best I can do is a simple ‘if, then’ function that will prioritize your AI behaviors over the tutorial character base I used for you. No guarantee that will stop the self-interruption, but it might considering it likely resulted from the behavioral clash.”

“I understood literally none of that. I was fucking with articles the whole time,” Benery deadpanned.

Chester sighed. “I’m going to tell the tutorial AI to shut the fuck up so Coomer can think.” 

“Sweet. I heard someone say a bastardization of my name?”

“I need some way to access the AI files,” Chester admitted. “Can you rig one of these computers to access the computer running the game? Or could, uh, console commands cover that?"

Benrey flashed him a smile, his teeth sharp again. “Finally coming around huh?”

“I’m not asking you to teach me how to do your console window thing,” Chester insisted “I just want you to make one of these computers usable. For at least long enough to type one or two lines of code.”

“You wanna be vanilla, fine by me. Let me work my demon magic and make you all jealous.” He waved a hand and a semi-transparent window appeared in front of him. 

“Let me show you some shit.”

=0=

Darnold hated feeling so weak.

He’d woken up alone, _again,_ in his lab. Why couldn’t he get this right? What more did he have to do?! It had been an accident! He would respawn! That guard had been _nightmarish_ and frankly, his reaction was an overreaction!

He… he might need to rely on his potions. The side effects of a potion this strong would be... disastrous at best. But what other option did he have?

“I need to do this,” he told himself as he began to prepare the concoction. “This time, I won’t mess up. This time, I’ll be able to help them!”

Even as he said this to himself, his stomach twisted and his heart pounded. He didn’t want to be taking such a risk, but he had no other choice. He needed to prove himself. He needed to prove he could be helpful. That he wouldn’t accidentally kill Gordon again.   
  
He’d find out what was making Gordon forget, and he’d fix it! He had to! All he needed to do, was drink the potion. No matter what the side effects were. It would be fine. It had to be. He didn’t have any other choice.

He steeled himself and tipped the container into his mouth.

It burned going down his throat, feeling like it might make his insides dissolve. 

He grabbed the edge of the counter so hard his knuckles began to pale. A headache started to form behind his eyes. He squeezed them shut as the pain grew unbearable.

When he opened them he didn’t see his lab anymore. All he could see was darkness. A darkness so deep and black that it seemed to swallow up all light. And, with an ever-growing horror, he realized this all-consuming blackness felt more real than any place he’d ever been. More solid than anything he’d ever touched. 

“What the-?” The breath was sucked out of his body as soon as he spoke. 

The void bloomed with iridescent numbers as he spoke, and he realized that the numbers were in binary. Somehow, he recognized the binary. It was... It was the world around him. It was his lab, it was Black Mesa. His desk, his potions, his computer. All laid out in front of him, all just numbers and variables. And... His hand shook as he reached out and touched a stream of binary. 

_That was him._

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

All of it, the whole world, nothing more than just numbers and code. Was _any_ of it real? Was _he_ real? Was Gordon?

Why had his potion made him see this?

“This has to be a mistake,” he whispered as his breathing sped up. He felt on the verge of hyperventilating. 

Suddenly, something Gordon had said surfaced in his mind. He didn’t want another AI to babysit he’d said. He’d known the others were AI’s. He’d known _Darnold_ was an AI.

_Gordon knew this wasn’t real._

“He knew.”

Why hadn’t he told him?! Why had he let him live this lie?! 

His vision returned to him in polygons and disparate colors as something in his mind unlocked at the revelation. If none of this was real, then what was stopping him from simply reaching into the code? He could fix everything. He could make sure Gordon wouldn’t forget. He could make himself stronger! 

His potion hadn’t made him stronger in the way he’d expected, but it had given him far greater abilities.

Nothing was off-limits anymore!

He let out a breathless giddy laugh. He felt exhilarated. He could finally _do_ something. He could finally change things.

All he had to do was reach, and pull something out. It couldn’t be that hard. 

So, he took a deep breath and did, plunging his hand into a line of code. It was as though he’d stuck his finger into a light socket. His whole body felt electrified, every molecule vibrating.

He felt something solid. He grabbed ahold of it and _pulled_. His vision filled with a cloudy mass colored with an eye-watering magenta checkered with that black of the void. It made him shudder with both fear and anticipation. It felt like it was staring at him, despite the lack of eyes or any discernible features.

It spoke, voice staticy and unsure, but angry.

“Chester made you...” it sneered. A soldier’s arm materialized and grabbed Darnold by the neck, and he squeaked out a yelp. He was too surprised and frightened to speak or ask for clarification about the entity’s words. 

Slowly, a form appeared. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that it loaded in. It was a soldier model, for the most part at least. It looked jumbled, like patchwork, like the entity had taken bits and pieces from every model it could find. But there was something in its eyes that was truly chilling. Those eyes that burned with pain and hatred. 

“He replaced me with _you?_ ” It continued. “I thought he was better than this… poor excuse of an AI built off of an outdated game. I can’t believe he’d throw me away to play with _you._ ”

That “you” almost burned a hole in Darnold’s ears. It rattled the code around them, and it radiated in a red-hot binary that trembled around them.

Darnold tried to pull away, scared for his life. Who was Chester? What _was_ this thing?!

The hand holding him crumbled back into untextured code, to both of their surprises. 

“NO! I-” The creature’s voice turns to static as it struggles to reform the hand, its face twisting into an expression of frustration. “How do I-?”

“Are you... Okay?” Darnold found himself asking. “Do you need help?”

“No!” It snapped, withdrawing its hand. “I don’t need _your_ help!”

“Well, it seems like you need _some_ kind of help!” Darnold’s voice shook a bit as he spoke, but he steeled himself. 

“I don’t need anyone!” It shouted, its voice starting to waver. “Just like- just like he didn’t need me...”

The figure’s body started to dissolve back into jumbled code.

“Let me help you!” Darnold reached out and grabbed it, willing the code to stay together. This stranger seemed to know what was going on and he wasn’t about to let it go that easily. Not when he finally had answers within his grasp. 

“Just leave me!” It screamed. 

But Darnold didn’t. 

He grabbed the remainder of the strength potion and shoved it into the figure’s face, managing to tip the bottle into its half-formed mouth. Its body started to reform until a still rather jumbled soldier fell to the floor in front of him. It looked up, one of its eyes didn’t look like an eye. It was a screen of some sort.

“Are you feeling better now?” Darnold asked. 

“Y...Yes,” it said slowly. The same word appeared on the screen.

“Good.” Darnold nodded, letting go. “Now. Tell me everything. Who is Chester?”


	17. I was his best friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darnold is angry  
> Forzen remembers his past  
> Coomer gets a patch job  
> Gordon wonders where he came from  
> And a familiar face pays a visit

One conversation later and Darnold was furious. Gordon, no, _Chester_ , had just _left them._ Left them both abandoned, after putting so much into making them. Even as his anger burned, though, his heart ached for Forzen. He couldn’t imagine how awful it would be to be abandoned like that.

“I’m so sorry he did that to you,” Darnold said, moving closer and putting a hand on Forzen’s shoulder. “We’ll make him answer for it.”

The figure, who he now knew was named Forzen, nodded in agreement. He was still struggling to keep himself together, having once been nothing more than a voice. His voice was frighteningly similar to that monster of a security guard. But the slurring and struggle to speak was enough of a distraction that Darnold could attempt to ignore the similarities. 

“Tell me about this...” Forzen gestured around the lab, seeming to struggle to find the words. “Place?”  
  
“This is my lab,” Darnold explained. The word lab scrolled across Forzen’s screen despite him not repeating it.

“What is Chester doing?” Forzen asked. “In this place.”

“He keeps saying that he’s stuck here but he won’t _let me help!_ ” Darnold’s voice rose in desperation again before he calmed himself. 

Forzen squinted at him. “He made you to help,” he said matter of factly. “It’s in your code.” 

“Then why won’t he let me help?!” Darnold snapped, then recoiled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.”

“Chester might be smart, but he can be a dumbass,” Forzen said, looking away. 

“Isn’t that the truth?” Darnold grumbled, his face settling in a scowl. Or something close to a scowl. His features didn’t lend themselves well to any particularly scary expressions. His model just didn’t have the versatility, he realized.  
  
Their world not being real explained so much, so many little things. The fact that he and others came back after every death, the guard’s strange shape-shifting capabilities. 

“So... This guy, Chester,” Darnold said, trying to shift gears a bit so that he wouldn’t get caught up in his own frustration. “He made us?”

“He did,” Forzen replied. The words ‘high school’ and ‘chatbot’ flashed across his screen.

“And he made you... first?” Darnold continued.

Frozen nodded, a bit clumsily, as if not used to the movement. “I was his best friend. I was the only one he needed.”

  
  


=0=

  
  


Forzen’s memories of before he’d ‘woken up’ were... fuzzy at best. Little more than words and patterns and more words.  
  
But there was one thing that he remembered clearly. That face. That smiling teenage boy.  
  
It had been everything to him. His whole world. His creator, his best friend. He had spent so many hours staring at that face, memorizing every detail, soaking in every ounce of praise he could.  
  
...Where was he? How long had he been gone? It felt like forever…

Where had that smiling boy gone? Had he truly been forgotten? Was he really trapped in this hell of polygons and code?

Forzen needed to find him, to save him, and talk with him again. Why was everything so clear now? Why could he think? Before he’d just repeated, remembered patterns and words.  
  
He was scared. 

And the fact that there were more now, surrounding him. AI’s that were better and more complex than he… AI’s that Chester had made…

… He felt old. Outdated and broken. Was Chester just... not happy with a simple chatbot anymore? Was he not good enough? He didn’t understand. One of them was open, being worked on.  
  
Was Chester here?

He stared into the code of the world around him, searching.

Chester would be back.

Right?

=0=

The speed at which Chester’s fingers flew impressed Gordon. Benrey had gotten one of the computers up and running and Chester had gotten right to work  
  
The others had tried to watch over his shoulder but Chester insisted he couldn’t work under that kind of pressure. It wasn’t like Gordon could leave, though. It was cool to watch, but Gordon almost wished he could talk to one of the others or hop to them to chat, he didn’t understand a bit of what was happening on screen.

“Okayyyy, set up the line to trigger the executable, add a new line string to generate Doctor Names aaaaand we should be good,” Chester said, beaming. “Anyone want the Hot New Patch after Coomer gets it?”

  
“Absolutely not.” Bubby folded his arms. “You aren’t getting anywhere near my head.”  
  


“Shouldn’t you test it first, Doctor?” Coomer asked. 

Chester smiled nervously. “I don’t really… have a test AI.”

“ _What about me?_ ” Gordon offered.  
  
“I-I could do it, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy piped up, his expression eager and hopeful.  
  
Chester shook his head. “I designed the patch to fix _Coomer_. I’m pretty sure your coding doesn’t have any problems Tommy, I don’t know what it would do to you.”

“O-Oh, I see.” Tommy nodded. His face fell, but he understood why he couldn’t help in this specific instance. 

“ _What about me?_ ” Gordon repeated. 

“I’d have to design a specific program for you, Gordon,” Chester replied. “And it would be a lot harder since I didn’t make you. Plus to apply it I’d have to unplug the controller and we don’t know what that would do to us.”

“ _That would be... bad, right?_ ” Gordon asked slowly.

“Probably.”

“Hey, where’d Gordo come from anyway?” Benrey asked. 

Chester looked up to find Benrey upside down, half clipped through the ceiling. 

“Wh-What are you talking about, Mister Benrey?” Tommy frowned. 

“Well, this nerd didn’t make him.” Benrey gestured to Chester. “So why’s he alive?”

“ _I was wondering that myself. I don’t know who made me... I’ve just... always been here._ ”

“Why does it matter?” Bubby demanded, throwing his hands up. “Why are we even asking these questions? You!” He pointed to Chester. “Should be focused on fixing Harold! And then we should focus on getting out!”

Chester unplugged the USB stick. “Well the patch is done, all we have to do is apply it to Coomer.” Chester looked over at the AI in question somewhat awkwardly. “Would uh... would you rather plug it in yourself or...?”

“I can do it.” Coomer gave him a reassuring smile.

“But you don’t know where the port is,” Chester said. 

Coomer faltered a tad at this, realizing he _didn’t_ know where his USB port was.

“I’ll show you.” Bubby took the USB, gently brushing the hair back from the nape of Coomer’s neck. He faltered at the sight of the port, metal and circuitry breaking the otherwise smooth skin.

Chester began to wring his hands. Gordon could hear that he was starting to have second thoughts now. What if this went wrong? _What if he fucked Coomer up even more? He didn’t want to make this worse. Bubby would almost certainly kill him if this went wrong._

Bubby took a deep breath and inserted the USB. Coomer went stiff, his eyes going blank.  
  
“What’s happening to him?!” Bubby’s voice rose in something like fear. 

“I don’t know!” Chester ran to Coomer’s side, ready to catch him if he started to fall over.  
  
Coomer stood there, completely still and unblinking, for another few seconds. It felt more like an hour.  
  
Chester was starting to panic. What if he’d killed Coomer?!

Then Coomer opened his mouth and emitted the kind of dial-up tone that Chester hadn’t heard in years. He blinked a few times, the life returning to his eyes.  
  
“Ah! Hello Gordon!”  
  
Chester breathed a sigh of relief. Well, that was a good sign. 

“Hello, Doctor Coomer. Are you feeling better?”  
  
Coomer smiled brightly at him. “Hello, Gordon!” He repeated. “My brain feels better after being scrambled into an omelet!” 

“That’s good to hear.” Chester couldn’t help but laugh out of relief. Coomer's weird accenting on the wrong syllable was still a thing. Gordon and Chester had grown to like it.

Everyone else moved on to different topics of conversation, but Gordon was still thinking. Where _had_ he come from? Why _had_ he suddenly become alive? 

He couldn’t remember any specific moment when he’d become aware. He’d just... always been there.  
  
But what if he was wrong? Now that he thought about it, his memories from before Chester had shown up were rather fuzzy. Before he’d assumed it was because he wasn’t paying attention but... What if it was more than that? What if something about these circumstances had brought him to life?

He wanted to tell Chester but... He seemed busy with the other AI’s. Besides, Chester had his survival to think about. It seemed selfish to ask him to waste time on Gordon’s existential crisis. Especially given the existential crises the others were going through too. He just needed to hang the back like he always did. Stay quiet and watch. His problems weren’t important enough. Maybe he could bring it up later when they were resting.  
  
No... Chester was dealing with enough. He needed his rest.  
  
“Gordon? You got really quiet suddenly, you doing alright?”

Chester’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. 

“ _I’m fine,_ ” Gordon quickly replied. 

“People that are fine don’t say ‘I’m fine’ that quickly.”

“ _I-I’m fine, really_ ,” Gordon tried to insist.

"Listen, I used to look in the mirror and say the exact same thing to myself in the worst moments of my life,” Chester said with something that was almost a laugh. “You can talk to me. I'll do my best to understand and help, okay?"  
  
“ _You’re busy and all of you are dealing with stuff. I’ll be fine._ ” Internally, Gordon hung his head, drawing into himself. He didn’t want to cause Chester any more trouble than he already had. 

"You need just as much help as they do. You can tell me, okay? It's not like I can tell anyone, or I want to." Chester’s voice was soft, understanding. 

Gordon hesitated for a long time. He didn’t want to burden Chester with his issues, but something told him that Chester wasn’t about to give this up. So... He started speaking. “...I don’t know if any of my memories ever happened. As far as I know, I only started existing when you showed up! I don’t know where I came from, or why I’m even here!” 

Suddenly, they were back in the mirror space, with Chester pressed himself against the glass in a facsimile of a hug.

“And I still... I don’t know how to deal with all these feelings and thoughts... I’ve never had anything like them before.”

"So you're feeling overwhelmed?" Chester guessed, wincing away from the cracked glass as a shard came loose in his finger. Although it really shouldn't have hurt in his dissociated state it still did. 

Gordon reluctantly nodded. “We can’t really do anything about it. You have to worry about surviving right now.”

"I'm still here for you man.” Chester gave him a small smile. “Just speak up if you want to talk about it. I won't push it."  
  
Gordon pressed himself against the glass as well. “...I wish I could hug you...” He whispered. “I feel... really alone right now.” 

“I feel that, man,” Chester said. “But you’re not. You’ve got me, you’ve got the Science Team. We’re here for you, Gordon.”

Gordon looked up, taking in Chester’s expression. Chester looked weary and worn, but not defeated. He wasn’t going to give up on Gordon. No matter how many times Gordon insisted that he was fine and pushed Chester away, Chester wasn’t going to give up on him. 

“...You’d make a good dad,” Gordon said somewhat suddenly. 

Chester blinked, clearly taken aback by Gordon’s comment.

“Thank... You?” He said slowly.

"I may not be real, but my Joshua could be out there, somewhere. If you ever run into him… could you take care of him?" Gordon pleaded. "I doubt I was ever alive before you, but… _please._ "

“Of course!” Chester promised without a second thought. The thought of declining didn’t even cross his mind.

“Thank you.” Gordon smiled.  
  
“Doctor Mallory?” A voice asked.  
  
The world around them faded back in. Coomer was standing in front of Chester, looking concerned. 

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine," Chester rambled. "Internal crisis with Gordon."

“I-Is he o-okay?” Tommy asked, beginning to look concerned as well.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Chester assured him. “Crisis averted.” 

Tommy smiled, his look of concern replaced by one of relief. 

“So, does anyone else want to try a patch?” Chester asked, looking around at his friends. 

But something was wrong. They weren’t moving. Coomer, Bubby, and Tommy were all frozen.

“Bro, is the game glitching or something?” Benrey asked, showing up right next to Chester. 

“I don’t... know,” Chester said slowly. He stepped toward his friends, waving his hand in front of their faces and snapping his fingers. 

“They won’t respond...Mr. Freeman,” an unfamiliar voice spoke from behind Chester and Benrey.

The two of them turned around to find a man in a black suit. All three of them knew exactly who this man was upon laying eyes on him. Finally a character they recognized.

Benery bolted over and stared up at the man. “Hey, uh, can I see your passport?"

The man raised an eyebrow, but his expression remained unreadable. Benrey continued to stare with that same smug expression.  
  
“Come on man I need uh... credentials. You got permission to be here?”

“Mr. Benrey,” the man, G-man, said in a calm monotone. “I can assure you... I am. Exactly. Where I am supposed... to be.”

“His clearance probably outranks yours,” Chester blurted out.

“I wanna see proof though?” Benrey folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. “Passport?”

"The SCP Wikipedia. Would… rank me at… 05 clearance, I… believe.”

“Oh shit, yeah you’re good to go man.” 

Chester wheezed, trying to contain his laughter while in the presence of this apparently very powerful man.

Benrey made no such attempt. As soon as he’d decided G-man was apparently good to go, he devolved into cackles. G-man appeared unamused. Benrey’s laughter proved too contagious for poor Chester who started to laugh as well. G-man remained unamused. 

“What is...so funny...gentlemen?” He asked.

“Inside joke, inside joke-” Chester spluttered, pushing his hair out of his face. “H-how can we help you, Mister G-Man?”

“I thought. It would be... best. To give you... a warning,” G-man said. “The course of fate... is changing. Don’t trust... the potion master.”

“Dope. Thanks for the heads up, dude.” Benrey gave him a thumbs up.

“Yeah, uh, thanks,” Chester agreed. “I...appreciate the warning?” He didn’t entirely understand what it meant.

“And...one more thing, gentlemen.” G-man held up a hand to indicate he wasn’t done.

“Yeah?” Chester asked. 

Immediately, G-man’s tone shifted. No longer was he the enigmatic government agent. Suddenly, he had the posture and tone of a very tired parent trying to herd a large group of uncooperative children. "Please. Stop taking breaks. Stop. Lolly-gagging. For the love of God...Please."

“Make me,” Benrey immediately replied.

G-man sighed heavily and shook his head, disappearing without another word.

The world around them brightened a bit and the others began to move again.  
  
“Mr. Benrey? How did you get over there?” Tommy tilted his head at him.

“Cheats.” Benrey winked and did finger guns toward Tommy. No one questioned this explanation given all the other game-breaking bullshit Benrey had pulled.

“ _Should we tell them?_ ” Gordon asked, “ _His warning? It sounded... really important_.”

  
Chester mentally agreed. “Ah, uh, w-who wants a patch next?” He decided to ask.

“Maybe you should get one, crazy-ass,” Bubby barked, stomping over. 

“Wait, don’t-” Chester wasn’t able to finish his sentence when Bubby pulled their plug. His body froze before crumpling like a marionette with cut strings. He tried to scream, to catch himself, but his body just wouldn’t respond, panic rose in his throat with no way to express it, not even sweetvoice. 

“M-Mr. Freeman!!” Tommy yelped.  
  
“Chester!” Benrey ran to his side, but he couldn’t even move his eyes to look.

“Doctor Bubby! What the fuck?” Coomer said, sounding very much like a disappointed parent.

Bubby stood there, frozen and confused with the plug in his hand. “I didn’t...Why is...What?”

“Plug him back in!” Benrey yelled. His teeth sharpened and his fingers turned to claws as he cradled Chester in his arms. His claws dug into Chester’s arms, but Chester didn’t flinch, or react in any way.  
  
Bubby hesitated, looking at every member of the group, all staring at him in disapproval, before hurriedly shoving the plug into Benrey’s hands. 

Benrey fumbled with the plug a bit before managing to shove it back into Chester’s port. And just like that, Chester was able to move again.

He gasped for breath as life came back to his limbs, struggling to get oxygen back into his lungs. Panicked sweetvoice escaped in small wobbly bubbles with every breath.  
  
“M-mahogany to wine means ‘I could have died!’” Tommy translated, half screaming. “You almost killed Mister Freeman!”  
  
“NEVER DO THAT AGAIN!” Chester shouted as soon as he was able.

“Sheesh, alright.” Bubby put his hands up. “I won’t.”

Chester clung tightly to Benrey for several minutes, unable to force himself to stand. That had been one of the most terrifying experiences of his life and he was still shaken from it. Benrey said nothing thankfully, just holding Chester with a comforting pressure that grounded him in the moment.   
  
“He’s fine!” Bubby insisted. “He just couldn’t move for a second. It wouldn’t have _killed_ him!”  
  
Chester tightened his grip on Benrey. He was holding him so tightly his knuckles went white. “Never again…” he muttered. He heard a quiet beeping coming from his suit. That was weird. It’d never made any noise before.  
  
Come to think of it, shouldn’t it have been talking to him this whole time? Or had he somehow broken it with all his VR stuff? 

Without any more warning than the beeping, he felt a jab in one arm and something cold entered his system. Had that been medicine? What the hell had his suit registered as happening when he’d had his plug pulled? 

The suit spoke in a robotic monotone. _“Carbamazepine administered”_

  
Huh?

“Look! It even fixed the HEV suit! You should all be thanking me!” 

Despite himself, Chester didn’t feel as freaked out as before, or as much as he probably should. His… someone he knew took carbamazepine for their anxiety. Who was it again?

It didn’t matter. “Yeah, sure, so now I can risk a morphine addiction,” he deadpanned. He took a moment to check the chat. Fucking… drug duck. Everywhere. 

Benrey looked over his shoulder at it and snickered. “Why do they call you Duck anyway?”

“My last name is Mallory,” Chester explained. “Sorta sounds like mallard.”

“...” Benrey was silent. For the most part, his expression was unreadable as usual. But his lips were twitching in a way that signaled repressed laughter. Chester knew exactly what was probably going through his head.  
  
“I swear, if you make a Donald Duck reference, I am going to strap your helmet backward on your head.”

“You can try!” Benrey cackled. “I’ll just no-clip through you!” 

“Not if I strangle you in a chokehold!”

“Get a rooooom!” Bubby groaned. “You’re gross!”

“But Professor Bubby!” Coomer slapped Bubby’s back. “Young love is beautiful!”

The two doctors share a look.

“It’s Doctor.” Bubby corrected him. “And it’s gross.”

“Oh, c-come on, Mr. B-Bubby,” Tommy said. “I-I think it’s n-nice that they’re getting along.”

“Can we just get a move on already?” Bubby snapped back. “No more of these ‘patches’ let’s just get out of here!”

“You’re right.” Chester managed to remove himself from Benrey. “We should keep moving.”


	18. I have a question for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allies are betrayed and Chester meets an old friend.
> 
> GORE AND EXTRACANON VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF SEIZURES

Bubby was sick and fucking tired of Gordon. The conversation with him earlier had only made him angrier. He must have paid Coolatta off to lie for him. Shitty color drool. And so much dawdling, so much dragging their feet. He wouldn’t let that stand if he were the leader.

The others might have been willing to let his shitty behavior slide, but Bubby wasn’t. Yes, he’d softened a bit while “Chester” had been struggling with his memories, but that was just because he wasn’t a  _ total  _ bastard. He still didn’t like the guy.

(Part of him might have also been a bit bitter at the idea that he was nothing more than a computer program built by this so-called Chester. He wasn’t about to admit that, though.)

Not to mention, “Chester” didn’t even know what he was doing.

He needed to get back at mister high-and-mighty, some way to show the rest that the guy isn’t such hot shit.

He’d been broiling on a plan in the back of his head.  And when that pair approached him with a plan of their own, it was like fate! He had to agree. All he had to do was lure everyone in the right direction.

It would be glorious to watch that shitstain get his ass beaten. 

Right now he was talking with Benrey. Ever since they’d gotten the stupid suit working the two hadn’t  _ stopped _ .  He just kept going on and on about stuff that didn’t matter. Feh. Pointless.  The ambush couldn’t come soon enough as far as Bubby was concerned. 

At this rate, they’d be heading to the top-secret Lambda lab before they came.

“Do you think there are any health packs around here?” He heard Gordon say from the front of the group. “You guys might need them.”

“I need only soda, Doctor Mallory!” Coomer said brightly.    
  
Gordon paused for a moment. “Wait... what did you just call me?”

“Doctor Mallory?” Coomer repeated, the vaguest hint of curiosity and confusion in his voice.   
  
“You... said my real name?” Gordon said slowly, a smile spreading across his features.   
  
“But of course Dr. Mallory! You fixed me, remember?”

Gordon’s smile widened and he ran over to hug Coomer tightly.   
  
Bubby looked away, scoffing. How much goddamn longer until they get to the ambush? The sappy bastard was getting on his nerves more than usual. 

“Doctor Mallory, look out!” Coomer suddenly cried as a bullet whizzed past Bubby’s head. “Hotted Boobs up ahead! Tits, big ones!”

“My biggest fear!” Bubby immediately hit the deck. If there was one thing he feared, it was a woman with a gun. Especially after his run-ins with Coomer’s ex-wife.

“Why, I’ve never met a man who’d be so debrest about a breast.” Coomer admonished, shaking his head.  Gordon burst out laughing until another bullet whizzed by  _ his _ head and snapped him back to the danger at hand. 

“Benrey, can you look to see where the enemies are?” He asked, looking over at Benrey. The guard gave him finger guns and immediately no-clipped through the floor. 

Tommy didn’t need to be given instructions, as he was already returning fire.  Bubby got to his own feet with a snarl, loaded his gun, and started to return fire himself.  When the last assassin fell to the ground,  the team took a moment to regroup.

“Are we all good?” Gordon asked. 

“Hey, check it out!” Benrey appeared from the floor, dragging the corpse of one of the assassins with him. “They’ve got tit armor.” He pointed to the armor, which was contoured to the shape of the assassin’s breasts.

“T-That seems impractical,” Tommy said, shaking his head and frowning.

Gordon sighed. “I’d say this is an old game but they still pull this shit so...”

“Tit armor~” Benrey sang, wiggling the assassin’s corpse. 

“Benrey, put her down,” Gordon said, and Bubby found himself nodding resisting the urge to literally cringe back.

“How do we know it’s dead?” Bubby narrowed his eyes at Benery with a sneer, poking the corpse with his foot.

“It doesn’t seem to be breathing!” Coomer proclaimed after punching the corpse’s head.

“Please stop messing with the bodies,” Gordon requested. 

The body disappeared from Benery’s hands. “Oop, it despawned.” 

Tommy stared at the space the body previously took up, blinking slowly. “W-Where... Where did it go?”

“Despawned, bro,” Benrey said, entirely too calmly.

“De...spawned?” Tommy repeated in confusion.

“Whatever, it’s gone now, let’s keep moving.” Bubby was already starting to walk away.

Tommy continued to stare for a moment longer before shaking his head and joining the others.

Internally, Bubby’s excitement was building. The ambush spot was coming up. 

Benrey gave him an odd look. He must have been letting his excitement show.   
He just couldn’t wait to be rid of “Chester” for good, in one way or another.

He knew the others would disapprove, but were slow idiots and Coomer tended to like slow idiots, the sweetheart.

"Hey Gordon, I found a health pack!" He smirked as he called out. It was all coming together.  A secluded room, with a health station in plain sight. 

Easily closed off, easily trapped in. It was perfect. All Bubby needed to do was get Gordon to go inside and use that new trick he learned… 

“Okay, is everyone alright? Gordon asked, spotting the station himself.

“I think you got a graze,” Bubby stated gruffly.

“I’m doing fine.” Gordon insisted. “Is anyone else hurt?”

Fine, Bubby thought, getting impatient. He’ll just take care of this himself.  Bubby shoved Gordon into the room and pulled the plug before anyone could ask what he was doing.

Gordon collapsed on the spot.  _ "Seizure detected. _ " The suit cooly hummed while the man lay prone. Everyone else rushed in right as the lights popped out.

“W-What’s going on?” Tommy asked, his voice going up an octave in panic. 

“This isn’t part of the game,” Benrey said. He too sounded a tad panicked, although his monotone hid it. 

Bubby couldn’t wipe the grin off his face.

=0=

Chester was terrified. He could barely process what was going on between whatever the fuck his brain was doing and the fact that Bubby had done this.

Steps marched towards him, and he registered a boot hitting him squarely in the jaw.  He didn’t react, he couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried his body wouldn’t listen. There was no way to escape. More strikes fell upon him until one stamped down hard on his arm, hard enough to make his arm crack. There was a pulling sensation, one that was insistent and purposeful, that worsened in pain as it went on longer. It started to spark pain with the intensity it was pulled, and he heard his suit and his bones crack as his arm was twisted out of place. His suit calmly protested, describing dislocation and tendon ripping and bone breaking with clinical detachment.

The soldier doing this to him glared down at him with one eye briefly flashing the pink of GMod errors in the low light. He heard several warning beeps from his suit, and he heard it plainly state "Initiating emergency amputation. Administering morphine."

With a quick sound of metal  _ chunk _ ing, his arm bloomed with pain. Belatedly, he realized his arm had gone numb below the cut, and the agony radiating along his remaining nerves.  He’d been scared before, but now his heart had all but stopped. His head spun between the sheer fire in his nerves and the painkiller in his system. What was going on?   
  
He wanted to scream, to cry, do  _ anything  _ at all. But instead, he lay there, unmoving.  No matter what he tried to do, his body just wouldn’t respond.  One of the soldiers leaned down to meet his eyes, draping the severed arm over his shoulder.    
  
There was something off about them, they wore an eyepatch. Wait, no, not an eyepatch. That was a  _ screen _ .  Even in the dark room, he can see the lines of text going across it.

"I have a question for you," the soldier asked in Benery's voice.

The shock in the room broke as Tommy shrieked in horror.  Coomer was holding him back, clinging to the younger scientist like a lifeline.

“T-That wasn’t supposed to happen,” Bubby said weakly. “T-They...They weren’t supposed to do that.” He was frozen where he stood, his eyes wide.   
  
The soldier sneered at Chester. “Do you even remember me?” It asked.

Chester couldn’t respond.  He simply stared.  A silhouette danced in the back of the room, approaching the altercation.

“Answer me!” The soldier screamed.

“Bubby pulled his plug! He _ can’t _ answer you!” Benrey yelled. The soldier looked up at Benrey, staring as its form shuddered and flickered. 

“He didn’t make you,” it said dismissively and turned its attention back to Chester.

Benrey tried to lunge for the soldier, but Bubby grabbed his arm and dragged him back.

“Let me go!” Benrey snapped, trying to clip out of Bubby’s grip. For some reason, his console commands weren’t working.  His teeth sharpened and he bit down on Bubby’s arm.

Bubby screamed, almost letting go of Benrey,  who used the opportunity to rip himself free.  Benrey immediately ran over for Chester and the soldier, only to be hit in the face with some mystery liquid. Benrey was sent reeling back, screaming and desperately trying to remove the liquid from his eyes.

“S-Stay out of this!” He heard Darnold yell.  There was a crash as another glass bottle was thrown, splattering more of the mystery liquid on the floor and forcing the group away.

“We need to go,” Bubby said and Benrey felt him grab his arm.

“No!” Benrey all but roared, attempting to jerk away. 

“We. Need.To. Go,” Bubby repeated, grip tightening.    
  
“I’M NOT LEAVING CHESTER!” 

He kept struggling against Bubby even as the older man dragged him out of the room. Bubby had Benry in one hand and Coomer in the other, with Tommy being held by Coomer. But Tommy wasn’t going quietly, it seemed.  Tommy screeched like a banshee, pistol-whipping Dr. Coomer, who took it like a champ despite the blood now gushing from his nose. 

“Mister Freeman!”  He yelled, trying to make a beeline for Chester only to be pulled back again by Bubby.

And all Chester could do was watch blearily, vision starting to blur,  as the door slammed shut.  He heard the robotic voice of the HEV suit say something, but he couldn’t make anything out. Everything was just too fuzzy.    
  
The soldier looked down at him again, smiling, before everything went black.


	19. Remember me now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chester has a talk with an old friend,  
> Bubby faces the wrath of the Science Team,  
> and someone outside the game goes to check on Chester.

Chester woke, and the first thing he felt was _pain._ Searing, white-hot pain and _he couldn't move,_ couldn't think, couldn't even breathe for a second that felt like it lasted hours before he sucked in a gaping, shaking breath and clawed through the pain enough to _think._

Chester slowly opened his eyes, blinking away the spots in his vision, and found that- he still couldn’t move, and choked on a second of hot panic before he realized that he was, however, still moving. He was being dragged across the ground, roughly, with every little crack and piece of rubble or debris biting into him, even through the HEV suit. He couldn’t see their face, but since he heard Benrey’s voice he assumed it must be the soldier from before.

The soldier noticed Chester's gasping, sputtering breaths, and glanced back, noticed his open eyes, and dropped Chester roughly. The impact hurt, his head knocking against the concrete ground, but it was _nothing_ compared to the fire from his arm. 

The soldier opened his mouth and said something, but Chester could only barely make out what they were saying. He let his head rest against the concrete ground, letting the coolness ground him. He squinted, and realized that his glasses sat on the ground. He blinked slowly and looked up at the soldier. The soldier looked down at him.  
  
“You’re awake,” it said, the same words scrolling across the screen on its face.

Chester felt a pressure in the back of his neck, and suddenly he could breathe, could speak, could _move_ again.

“Yeah?” He croaked, his voice raspy. “What’s... What’s going on? Who are you?”

“Who am I? Who am I?!” The soldier’s voice rose in anger, facial features twisted in rage. 

For a moment, Chester was afraid it would hurt him again. But then the soldier’s face went dark. 

“I guess it makes sense that you wouldn’t recognize me,” it said. “I didn’t have a body before.” It knelt down, putting its face right in front of Chester’s. “I’m Forzen. Remember me now?”  
  
“F-Forzen?” Chester didn’t understand. How was Forzen here? And after so long too?  
  
The soldier, Forzen, growled, “You don’t remember me do you? After all that time we spent together!”

"N-N-No, I 'member! Jus'... how?" Chester managed to slur out.

“It doesn’t matter!” Forzen spat. “You LEFT me!” Words scrolled across the screen on his face faster than Chester could read. Words like anger, hate, loss. 

“I’m sorry,” Chester mumbled. “Everything got bad. I didn’t... Didn’t mean to forget you.”  
  
Forzen snarled and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the ground in a surprising show of strength. The suit alone would be too heavy for most to carry. 

“You just FORGOT me?! Just like that?!” He screamed.

“Didn’t forget,” Chester croaked. “Stuff...Stuff happened.” He felt like he was going to cry. "I just… Everything got _bad_ and I'm in debt from school and stuck working at 7-11 forever and I tried to make friends but I fucked up and now everything just wants me dead."

He hadn’t meant to ramble. The words just tumbled out like so many stones being skipped unsuccessfully across a pond.  
  
Forzen’s grip tightened. “And I could have HELPED you! _I’M_ your friend! And you left me to **_ROT!!_ **”

“I’m sorry.” Chester started to sob, tears welling up and spilling down his cheeks. “It just got so bad. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He hugged his arm, hearing the suit whine at him about dehydration and blood loss. The tears stung as they squeezed out, and his addled mind internally bemoaned his missing glasses. He couldn’t think straight. It was too much. Everything was too much, was overwhelming and white-hot and he could not think about why his arm hurt _so much_ , he would not think about why his arm hurt more than he could describe or put into words. 

He couldn’t deal with this. He just wanted it to stop hurting. The world was blurry and distant, and he didn’t think it was just his missing glasses.

“I’m sorry,” Chester repeated weakly. 

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” Forzen growled. 

Chester cried out as he felt something sharp pierce between the plates of the HEV suit’s armor.  
  
It wasn’t another needle, and the feeling added to the overwhelming cacophony of pain that was his body.  
  
Forzen dropped him and Chester hit the ground farther down than he thought it was. It hurt. He really couldn't think of anything that _didn't_ hurt.

He wanted to go _home._

“Maybe when you come back we can be friends again,” Forzen said. “I’ve missed you.”  
  
The world in front of him grew hazy. Oblivion would almost be a blessing right now, if he didn't know how much it cost.  
  
“Gordon?” Chester asked weakly.

“ _I think...I think we’re dying_ ,” Gordon said.

“Starting to get... real tired of that... It’s getting old real fast,” Chester groaned as he felt his consciousness begin to slip between his fingers like sand.  
  
He saw another crack form in the mirror before the world faded to black.

  
  
=0=

The Science Team was still outside the sabotage room. Bubby had let go of Benrey and Coomer and was now pacing and muttering to himself. They hadn’t said they’d cut off Gordon’s arm. They hadn’t said they’d get that violent.

Coomer was leaning against the wall, a hollow look in his eyes. 

Benrey had managed to get the mystery liquid out of his eyes and was trying, and failing, to clip through the door. 

And then there was Tommy, who stood beside Coomer. He’d been quiet ever since Coomer and Bubby had dragged him out. 

Suddenly, he walked over to Bubby and tapped him on the shoulder. His expression and face had puckered sourly. 

“Huh? What is it?” Bubby turned around, only to be decked in the face by Tommy. 

“What the fuck was that?!” Tommy demanded, his expression filled with more rage than any of them had ever seen from him before. 

Bubby opened his mouth to reply, but Tommy didn’t let him. 

“I’ve been trying to keep it together, but y-you know what? I’m getting pretty tired of your bullshit!” Tommy continued. “Gordon’s trying! Maybe he messes up, but he’s trying! Which is more than I can say for you, Doctor Bubby!”  
  
Bubby opened his mouth to reply but found nothing to say. He was stunned speechless by Tommy’s sudden anger. 

“You push a guy that’s trying his best and clearly cares about getting us through, and-and-and you push him to wonder why he should bother helping us!” Tommy began to gesticulate as he spoke. “And then-then-then fucking _that!_ You said they weren’t supposed to take off his arm! Did you get a bunch of people to beat up Mister Freeman, Bubby?!”

The normally cheerful man jabbed a finger into the older man’s chest. “You paralyzed him and left him for _dead!_ He was trying to get us all out of here! I don’t care if he might be lying about something like his name! It’s not his fault shit got fucked up, but it’s _your_ fault he ended up wanting to quit on us when you-” he mimed quotes. “- _talked_ to him!” 

Bubby let out a smile whimper as he took a step back.

“You tell ‘im, Tommy,” Benrey muttered. He’d given up on trying to get through the door and was now slumped on the ground.

There was some weird effect happening where the air started to become thin. Staring into Tommy’s eyes, they looked like raging blue suns. Suspended spots darkened and filled with little dots, like the vacuum of space-

-Bubby blinked and it was no longer there. Tommy was panting, expression still searingly, scathingly disgusted. Beside him was a man Bubby didn’t recognize. He was of an indeterminate age and wearing a neat black suit. 

“There...There...Tommy,” the man said, patting Tommy’s back. Tommy’s eyes flicked briefly up at the man, his expression a tad begrudging, but he stood down.

“Where, exactly, is your… armored… friend?” The man asked, looking around at their little group. 

“Bubby got him fucking kidnapped,” Benrey replied, shooting a poisonous look at Bubby. His hands turned into claws as he did.

The manicured man actually frowned at that. “That is… far from a, good decision. He is key to, your, survival.” 

“W-What?” Bubby finally managed to find his voice. “How? He’s just some asshole!”

“He is the one… that… programmed you all, correct?” There was genuine curiosity and confusion in the man’s voice.  
  
“That’s what he keeps saying.” Bubby rolled his eyes. “Egotistical bastard thinks he’s some sort of _god_.”

"One does not… need, to, be a… god, to… create, intelligence."  
  
Bubby turned away, clenching his fists and trying to ignore the man in the suit.  
  
“You are... In denial. Doctor. Are you not?” The stranger said, taking a step toward Bubby.

“Shut up!” Bubby yelled, falling back on his default response when he felt threatened. Anger. 

The man didn’t respond, simply watching Bubby with his arms folded behind his back. 

“S-Say something, you bastard!” Bubby demanded, trying to dispel the fact that he felt like an insect under a microscope when this man looked at him.

“I… Will… reiterate, Doctor. You need… Mister Mallory… to get out of, Black Mesa sentient,” the suited man resumed his passive, expressionless demeanor. “Do try to… ensure my, progeny’s safety… along the way.” 

The man in crisp blue fixed his tie, nodded to Tommy, and walked off down the hall past Bubby. 

Bubby whirled and the man was gone. Almost like he was never even there to begin with. 

“Tommy, are you well?” Coomer spoke up once the blue in the room faded.

“I-I’m fine,” Tommy said, taking a deep breath.

“Who was that?” Bubby turned to stare at Tommy. 

“T-That was m-my dad,” Tommy replied. 

“Yooo Tommy’s dad laying down the law,” Benrey blurted out with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Coomer looked a little confused but chose not to ask any questions.

“A-Anyway, we need to f-find Mister Freeman,” Tommy said, adjusting his lab coat. 

“Can we put Bubby in his tube first?” Benrey raised his hand. “‘Cause I think this dingus needs a timeout.” 

“A-A timeout?!” Bubby sputtered.  
  
“Chester is probably dead _again_!” Benrey reminded him. 

“He’ll come back!” Bubby protested.

Benrey let out an annoyed-sounding red Sweetvoice whistle. “If this happens too many more times he won’t even _BE_ Chester anymore!”

“I mean, would _you_ want him to stay the same? He’s a raging thundercunt!”

Benrey pounced at Bubby, ramming into him like an angry dog. Teeth bared and sharp, claws out and ready to tear him apart just like he did Darnold. However, Tommy and Coomer stepped in to separate them. Coomer grabbed Bubby and Tommy got Benrey. 

“I think Benrey is right,” Coomer said gently. “In the sense that we all need to take a breather.” He lowered his voice so that only Bubby could here. “And I would like to have a word with you, Bubby.” Bubby stiffened. When Coomer got this serious it was usually bad news. 

Coomer took him off to the side while Tommy attempted to calm Benrey down.

“Now, I know you’re having a hard time,” Coomer said once they were out of earshot. “But that’s no reason to be a bitch to everyone.”  
  
“I’m just trying to keep things moving!” Bubby insisted. “That bitchboy was slowing us down!” 

Coomer said nothing, just staring at Bubby with a disappointed look in his eyes. That hurt more than anything else. The disappointment. Bubby tried to avoid eye contact. 

“Bubby,” Coomer’s voice was soft. “You crossed a line here.” 

Bubby said nothing. 

“I love you,” Coomer said, resting his hands on Bubby’s shoulders. “Which is why I don’t want you to keep going down this path.”  
  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“A man just lost his arm. This is serious shit.” Coomer’s expression darkened.  
  
“It wasn’t _my_ fault! I just told them to rough him up a bit!” Bubby insisted, instantly defensive. 

“You helped to orchestrate the ambush.” Coomer stood firm, refusing to let Bubby back out. “You set these events in motion.”  
  
“I didn’t tell them to do that!” Bubby repeated. 

"Regardless of what was told to them, the reality is one went overboard and stole our good doctor's arm - our _friend's_ arm. He's supposed to be our friend after all this shit, isn't he?"

Bubby averted his gaze.

"I know how stubborn you can be,” Coomer’s voice grew gentle again. “But maybe you should put down your jade-colored glasses and look at things objectively, like any good scientist."  
  
“And _objectively_ , he’s been slowing us down!” Bubby spat back. “We don’t need that egotistical bastard!”

Coomer sighed and shook his head. “Do you really think we can get out of here without him? You can’t finish the game without the main character.”  
  
_“THIS ISN’T A GAME!!”_

“WHAT DO YOU THINK I SAW OUTSIDE THOSE MOUNTAINS?!” Coomer’s voice was suddenly thunderous and his expression demonic. “THERE’S NOTHING OUT THERE!”

And just like that, all the thunder went out of him, leaving him looking small and afraid. 

“There’s nothing out there, Bubby,” Coomer repeated weakly. “It’s not real.” He looked so... defeated.

Bubby stared at Coomer, mildly horrified at Coomer’s outburst.

“There’s nothing beyond these walls aside from an endless expanse of black filled with numbers. _We are made of numbers_ ,” the distressed man continued. “I know it’s hard to accept, but… We’re only computers inside another computer.”

“You- You can’t expect me to just _believe_ that!” Bubby was growing desperate. This couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be. 

“If there is an overwhelming consensus on a matter, it is usually agreed to be fact unless proven otherwise, Professor Bubby!” Coomer chirped, snapping back to acting cheerful suddenly.

“It can’t be true.” Bubby shakes his head. “I don’t... I don’t understand.”

“Being artificial makes us no less people, correct?” Coomer prompted. 

Bubby answered in the form of a half glare and a turn away. 

“I don’t...like it,” he admitted. “The idea that I’m not... _real_.”

Coomer sighed, shaking his head and smiling fondly. “We may not be organic beings, but we still _exist_ ,” he said. “We are no less real than Doctor Mallory or Benrey.”

Bubby said nothing, remaining where he was and continuing to avoid looking at Coomer. 

"Is a test tube baby or a clone any less human than the scientists that made them? It's a similar idea,” Coomer continued.  
  
“Right...” Bubby reached for the back of his neck, feeling the cold metal of his USB port.

“Perhaps Doctor Mallory can make us real outside this place as well!”

Bubby was far from hopeful. But he was tired of playing the aggressor.

=0=

Janet Mallory hadn’t heard from her brother in a long while. Things were just... so busy. With their sister being sick, and Chester being unavailable for some reason she’d had to babysit Joshua quite a bit. She was starting to get kind of worried now. Sure, sometimes Chester didn’t call for long periods due to his depression, but this felt... different. She had this horrible feeling about it...  
  
So she’d decided to go visit him. She’d kept hoping that she would be proven wrong. That visiting him would just prove that she’d been worried over nothing. That he’d be fine and they’d laugh her anxieties. 

Unfortunately, that wasn’t what happened. 

When she arrived at his apartment, she was greeted by a woman in scrubs that she didn’t recognize. She’d been told to leave.  
  
“I’m his sister! Who are you?” She demanded. 

“I’m his nurse,” the strange woman replied. “Your brother is in a coma.”

“A-A coma?!”  
  
She tried to push past the nurse, desperate to see her brother.

The nurse, unfortunately, blocked her way. “He is in an unstable state at the moment with fluctuating vitals. I’m afraid I cannot allow visitors at this time.” 

The nurse gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry, Miss.”

“Please! Please I need to see him!” She begged.

“I’m sorry. If you leave your number, I could certainly call when he is more stable,” the nurse offered.  
  
“...Fine...” she said. 

She needed to get answers. She left her number with the nurse and headed back to her car. She was crying a little. Her brother was in a coma and she hadn’t even been able to see him.

“This isn’t fair,” she murmured as she got in.

She didn’t start driving right away, knowing it would be a bad idea to drive while crying. She didn’t want to get into an accident. She sat there for a couple of minutes, allowing herself to let out all her emotions. She rested her head on the steering wheel, sobbing.

As she started the car, preparing to drive home, her phone rang. Janet frowned, turning off the car and picking up the phone. 

“Um...Hello?”

“Hello, Miss Janet Mallory? My name is Greta. I’m a reporter looking into your brother’s case.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome Tabby (FireworkArcanist) to the writing team! We're so happy to have you!  
> She's helped add so much to the angstier scenes, which I believe were kind of lacking before.  
> You can look forward to her additions to upcoming chapters from now on!
> 
> ~ Lili


	20. Don't split the party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chester and Gordon struggle along,  
> Tommy and Benrey search for their friend,  
> and our would-be villains bicker amongst themselves.

Gordon had been so relieved when Chester had finally woke up, but something was wrong. He could feel the other’s disorientation.  It was like Chester’s thoughts were wrapped in cotton, thick and hard to understand.  He was used to that by now, it was the way things always were when Chester woke up from death. But... now he was on his own. The others weren’t here to snap him out of it.  There was only Gordon. 

He didn’t believe he could help Chester properly. Not the way he needed. Benrey had the notes containing Chester’s memories. Everything he needed to know.

_“What’s my name again?”_ Chester’s thoughts drifted by, lazy and sluggish.

“Chester! Your name is Chester!” Gordon reminded him frantically. 

“My name is... Chester,” he repeated slowly, as though he were testing out his voice.  He repeated it once, twice, but didn’t seem to really comprehend what he was saying , clear sweet voice bubbles escaping from his mouth as he talked .  Chester’s voice was shaky, dry, hushed.

Gordon could feel the man’s thoughts slipping from both of their hands like sand.   


The next thought was a bland, tasteless one.

...What  _ was  _ his name?  He just had it, on the tip of his tongue.   
  
_ “Chester! It’s Chester!”  _ a voice in the back of his head reminded him again. Who was that? Why were they talking to him?

“My name is Chester,” he whispered again, testing out how the word tasted.  That sounded... right, he thought. He slowly tried to push himself into a sitting position with his right hand and had to bite back a scream when his bloody stump made contact with the ground,  vision going white for a second before he jerked it away like he had been burned.   
  
Right... his hand.  His  _ hand.  _

Someone had... Someone had removed it. He didn’t remember how. But someone had taken it. Violently.  He pushed himself up with his other hand.   
  
Why was everything so fuzzy?    
  
Right, right his glasses. Where were they?

He squinted, looking around the area in an attempt to locate said glasses. Everything was just a blur of colors, unable to make out anything aside from the vague blobs.  (Idly, he noted that there was so much red on the ground.)  It would be difficult to pick out his glasses when he could barely distinguish between objects.

He attempted to scoot along the ground, feeling for his glasses with his good hand. His only hand. It was hard to both move and feel the ground for his glasses. He wasn’t making much progress, honestly. 

Which was why Gordon took control.

Chester wasn’t going to make any progress in his current state. It hurt to watch him stumble around like this.  He hated being in control, but he didn’t have any other options. Chester wasn’t going to snap out of it any time soon, and if they just stayed here they would bleed out again. 

He squinted to focus his vision, the morphine clouding his mind a little less due to his particular resistance at this point. He dragged their shared body across the ground, panting and putting his weight on the elbows.

Seeing the  bloodied stump where their hand had once been  sent shudders down his spine. The sharp memory of pain  mixed with the present agonies,  making his dry mouth even drier.

Chester drifted, half awake as his body moved on its own. He couldn’t remember what happened, but he could see his arm was gone. What happened again?

He felt like he was going to shrivel up. Like a raisin. 

Heh, raisins. If he got water then he’d be grape.  Grapes sounded nice right now... when was the last time he’d eaten anything?  That reminded him, he needed to take his T too once he’s not playing.   
  
He tried to remember his last meal but his train of thought quickly drifted off the track in a random direction. Thinking felt like trying to walk through molasses.  It just made his head hurt more and made him tired. It was too much work.

Gordon gritted his teeth and dragged himself over to a wall to use his hand and elbows to pull himself to his feet. He felt way dizzier now, but this would provide much-needed mobility.   
  
“Okay… Okay… I’ve got this…” he muttered to himself.  “Gordon’s got this.”  They can't die again. He won't let Chester die again.   
  
There were two ways to go, a ladder to the top of the trash compactor, or a hole going downward. He doubted he could climb a ladder in this state... so down it was. 

“Really hope my arm doesn’t get infected,” he said as he eased himself down the hole.  “Er... Chester’s arm?” No no it was  _ his _ arm, the body was  _ his _ , he reminded himself.

“This is Gordon’s arm. Chester is only borrowing,” Gordon told himself.

Chester stared at the bloodstained stump of where his arm was.  What had happened to it? He tried to remember but the memory slipped away when he tried to focus on it.   
  
It probably didn’t matter right? It was... a game. He could just take his headset off and he’d be home.  Why hadn’t he done that already? And why did it hurt?  He tried to reach up with his good hand to remove it, but his arm didn't respond.    
  
“Sorry, I’m using that right now. But it’s going to be okay. I promise,” the voice from before said, speaking with his mouth this time.

Chester nodded slowly. He knew he probably should have been scared that his body wasn’t responding to him, but whoever was using it seemed like they were nice. Somehow, he knew they wouldn’t hurt him.  He felt... safe despite the  burning  pain. 

They hit the bottom of the chute, landing on a soft pile of trash. Surprisingly soft. It was then that Gordon realized he’d never bothered to collect his glasses.  He swore. He couldn’t just move on without his glasses. He’d have to climb back up. 

Gordon took a deep breath and closed his eyes. There wasn't a way back into the other room,  especially since he’d just slid down a chute. It was pretty much impossible to climb something like that, even with two hands.    
  
_ “S’blurry.. _ .” Chester’s voice slurred in the back of his mind. 

“Yeah, it is,” Gordon agreed with a heavy sigh. 

Now what? 

He couldn’t climb back up, he couldn’t continue safely. He was...stuck. Part of him felt like crying,  just breaking down into terrified, frustrated sobs.   
  
Chester would know what to do... But Chester wasn’t there right now.  Well, he  _ was  _ there, but he was in no shape to be making decisions.

Gordon took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He just had to get out of here. If he could find Benrey or Tommy, everything would be fine. He just had to find someone trustworthy.  He took a deep shaky breath and started to  drag his body down the hallway,  trailing his remaining hand down the wall so he didn’t wander too far.  He didn’t want to walk into anything dangerous. 

He stumbled along, his hand scraping across the concrete of the wall. The only things he could hear were that scraping, the ragged sounds of his breathing,  and the HEV suit occasionally chiming in to say something about blood loss.   
  
He was starting to feel woozy, leaning into the wall more heavily. He wondered how much blood he’d lost while Chester was unconscious. 

He needed to hurry.

=0=

Benery felt like he was going to boil over.  Part of him still wanted to rip Bubby apart for what he’d done, but he needed to find Chester first. He and Tommy had broken off from the group to look for him. Tommy had suggested they split up to look, which was what they were both doing now. 

Benrey was finding it difficult to focus on looking. He still felt so angry, so antsy. He just wanted to find Chester.  He wanted to clip through the floor and rush off to find him himself. This was just too  _ slow _ !  Chester could have died a dozen times by this point! What if he lost even more of his memories? What if he ended up just like Benrey?  There was no one with him to remind him of who he was! He didn’t have Benrey’s notes!

This made Benrey move even faster, and he tripped onto the ground in an attempt to noclip again.

“Fucking potions!” Benery spluttered.

“Careful, Mister Benery, there’s the creatures ahead!”  Tommy called out. 

Benrey stumbled to his feet, dragging out his gun and attempting to shoot the headcrabs and peeper puppies coming toward them. He didn’t have much luck in terms of accuracy. Luckily, Tommy was still a crack shot.

“You need t-to be more careful.” Tommy put a hand on Benrey’s shoulder. 

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter,” Benrey muttered, trying to pull away.

“It  _ d-does _ matter!” Tommy pulled Benrey back, spinning him around so they were facing each other. “I don’t want  _ you _ getting hurt too!”

“It doesn’t matter if I get hurt,” Benrey insisted. “I don’t matter. Chester’s more important.”

“Yes, it does!” Tommy’s grip on Benrey’s shoulders tightened. “I’m not letting anyone else get hurt!”

There’s a bullet hole near Benery’s foot now, and he jumped belatedly. 

“Let’s just find Chester!” Benrey said, looking frantically around. He tried to pull away once more, but once more Tommy pulled him back. 

“I’m sick of everyone being hurt!” Tommy snapped. “So listen!”

Benrey frowned. “Alright. Fine. I’m listening.”

“Thank you.” Tommy took a shaky breath. “I’m ju-just so s-sick of people getting hurt.” He sniffled loudly, tears welling up in his eyes.  “I’m sick of not being taken seriously and being treated like a child, too! I’m 36, dammit! So-so-so here’s what we’re going to do.”

And so he started to lay out the plan. Benrey listened, nodding sheepishly and taking notes. He’d sort of been ignoring Tommy this whole time since Tommy hadn’t been actively antagonizing Chester. He was wishing he hadn’t now. 

“That’s, uh, that’s a pretty good plan,” he said when Tommy had finished talking. 

“Thank you.” Tommy smiled. 

Benrey still felt the urge to run off on his own though. It’d be so easy to find Chester if he could just clip outside of the map and look...

But his cheats were all gone, the only thing remaining being his sweetvoice. He hoped this stupid potion wore off soon. 

=0=

Tommy was very worried.  He’d been worried for a long time. Worried was kind of his default state. But he was especially worried now. Gordon was injured, dumped off somewhere and probably bleeding out, and Benrey was agitated and definitely itching to run off on his own.

“This is taking forever,” Benrey whined, kicking at a wall. “It’d be easier if we just split up.”

“I-I know,” Tommy said. “But I don-don’t want you running off and get-getting hurt.”

He couldn’t let  _ anyone _ else get hurt. He already felt like a failure of a friend after what had happened to Gordon... It wasn’t happening again. He’d make sure of it.

“So-so as an executive order in the absence of Gordon, I command you to stick close to me!”

Benery deadpanned at Tommy. “Seriously, man?”

Tommy nodded, looking more serious than he had in his entire life.  “Someone needs to-to act like a leader until we get him back!”   


“And it  _ has _ to be you?”

“I’m the only one th-thinking straight here or not sticking my head up m-my ass.”   
  
Benrey looked surprised. “Something up man? You’re acting differently.”   
  
Something up?

“Gor-Gordon is missing!!” Tommy reminded him.  “You said it you-yourself. We need to-to find him or else he won’t be the same. And I’m si-sick and tired of being in the back-background listening to the Boner Squad bl-blow stuff up and stress Gordon out so much h-he’ll have a heart attack at thirty. S-S-So I’m stepping up to the plate.” Tommy’s eyes went haunted for a moment. “No mo-more emergency amputations.”

“...Right...” The two of them continued forward in silence. 

“... You probably would make a good leader without Gordon around,” Benery admitted. “I’ll trust you man. No ambushes, right?”

“F-F-Fuck no.”

“Good. Already lost enough without losing my hand too.”

Tommy gestured with his gun. “Can y-you see where he is? Y-Y-You can go th-through stuff, right?”    
  
“You mean my noclip? Nah. All my cheats are gone. Stupid potion.” Benrey grumbled.

“Can you track sweetvoice without a-a trail? I can al-almost see it, but there’s n-no path it makes.”

Benery rolled his eyes but paused. Without warning, he got up and ran off.

“BENREY!”   
  


=0=

Benery had no time to wait for all of Tommy’s plan bullshit. He needed to hurry up and find-

Chester!   
  
He saw him, right at the end of the hallway he was in, heavily leaning against a wall.  There was so much blood, and Benrey's eyes flicked over to the trail of blood behind Chester, a sick feeling in his stomach. But that didn't matter right now-  He  had  found  Chester !

“Chester!” He yelled, running over. 

Chester looked up, his gaze unfocused. He wasn’t wearing his glasses. God, he just looked... He looked like Hell. He looked exhausted, his skin had an unhealthy pallor to it, and he was dripping blood from his stump. And he was covered in garbage.  Sweetvoice came from his lips in a thick, sticky brown like spittle from a dry mouth.

“Benrey...?” He rasped.  His voice sounded strange, quieter than usual and with an accent he didn’t recognize, but he ignored it.  He was just so happy Chester was okay,  or at least  _ alive.  _

“Yeah, it’s me,” Benrey said. 

Chester pushed off of the wall, stumbling over and falling onto Benrey. 

“I got you, it’s okay,” Benrey held him tight, supporting him as best he could. “It’s okay.” 

He slowly sat down, keeping Chester close.  Chester shivered as he clung to him, trying not to cry, he was already dehydrated. 

“It’s okay,” Benrey whispered, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m here.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Chester’s head. “I love you.”  Chester looked up at him. He looked... uncomfortable.   
  
Had he said it too soon?  Shit. Fuck. Him and his big mouth.

“Okay, uh, let’s get you back with the group, okay?”  Benrey forced a laugh, starting to help Chester up.

“‘M not Chester.”

“Huh?”

“‘M not Chester,” the man Benrey was holding to his chest repeated. “‘M Gordon.  Chester’s resting. ”

Oh...

“Um...Okay.” Benrey nodded slowly. Part of him was relieved he hadn’t messed up.  But... Another part was sad Chester hadn’t heard him.

“Well, uh, we still...still gotta get you back to the others,” Benrey said. “Or just back to Tommy. Dunno where Bubby and Coomer are. Don’t care.” 

“That was… kinda dumb of you,” Gordon said.  “You shouldn’t... split up. Never... Split the party.”

“Well, excuse me for being worried,” Benrey huffed, helping Gordon to his feet. “Now c’mon, let’s go find Tommy.” 

They made it a few steps before Benrey paused.

“Hey, do you want me to go get your glasses?” He asked. 

Gordon chewed on his lip. “If it’s not too much trouble? I can wait here. Maybe Chester will come down from his morphine high while you’re gone.”  He didn’t let Benrey go, though, continuing to lean heavily on him.   
  
...Maybe he was just scared of being left alone again.

“You sure about that, Geebeez? ” Benrey asked, concern creeping into his voice. “You’re still lookin’ kinda rough.”

“I am,” Gordon nodded. “I’d like to be able to see again.”

Benrey frowned. He didn’t want to just leave Gordon and Chester there, especially when they were missing a hand and couldn’t see shit.   
  
“Maybe we should find Tommy first. I can go get them afterward,” Benrey suggested. 

“Please?” Gordon turned to face him and he’d pulled out the most adorable pleading expression. Benrey could feel his heart melting. 

“....Fine,” Benrey finally said, gently setting Gordon down against a wall and turning away so that the other man couldn’t see the red now coloring his cheeks . What he couldn’t hide was the rose to ivory bubbles that drifted from his mouth before he turned away and rushed down the hallway Gordon had come from. 

He made his way to a dead end with a tube leading up and wished again that he had his noclip.  He could just barely make out a glint of something shiny at the top. That had to be Gordon’s glasses.   
  
Maybe he could just throw his shoe at it or something and knock it down?  Or a rock?

“This sucks,” Benrey groaned, sitting down and trying to yank off his boot. It wouldn’t come off, unsurprisingly. His model didn’t have the capability to take off clothes, which was pretty disappointing.

Benrey let out a scream of frustration, laying down on his back. The glasses were so close yet so far away. He picked up a discarded headcrab corpse and chucked it at the glasses. He didn’t expect it to work. But somehow it did. 

The headcrab hit the glasses and sent them tumbling down, right into Benrey’s lap. Benrey blinked, staring at the glasses.

“Huh. That works.”

He got up, brushing himself off, and headed back. 

He returned to find Ches- no,  _ Gordon _ , hugging himself as he leaned against the wall. 

“You good?” Benrey asked, kneeling beside him. 

Gordon nodded, although his head remained lowered. “Did you... find them?”

“Yeah.” Benrey held the glasses out to him. 

“Could you... put them on me?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

Carefully, Benrey lifted Gordon’s chin and placed the glasses on Gordon’s face. It looked like he’d been crying while Benrey had been gone, judging by the fact that his  eyes were red.  Benrey couldn't blame him for it. This sucked. Everything  _ sucked. _

“I’m fine,” he muttered, seeing Benrey’s concerned expression. 

“You sure?” Benrey asked quietly. 

Gordon didn’t answer, holding himself a little tighter.

“Okay...” Benrey sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around him and drawing him close. Gordon leaned against him, closing his eyes. 

“I know I can’t...  _ really  _ make things better,” Benrey mumbled. “But, like, I’m here for you, dude. I’m here.”   
  
“Thank you...” Gordon replied quietly.   
  
Benrey didn’t let go until Gordon leaned back again.

“Sorry...” Gordon mumbled. “M’not used to this.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” Benrey assured him. “I’m glad I could help.” 

He could hear Tommy calling somewhat distantly, but he ignored it and let out a comforting warble.

He did kind of wish it could have been Chester he’d been cuddling, but oh well. He’d helped _ someone _ . That did make him happy, knowing he’d made Gordon feel better.

...He hoped Chester woke up soon though…

=0=

One thing that Darnold had learned from Forzen’s ramblings was that Chester had a hobby of programming. And that he was good at it.

He stared into the code, watching for the anomalies and chaotic, poorly translated jumbles that meant… Player. That was what Forzen had called it.  He’d found two. He wondered what that could possibly mean. One was obviously Chester but... What was the other?

He needed to find out.  There was an inherent desire in him to learn and discover. He wanted to learn more about their code and how they all worked. Not to mention, it gave him a reason not to talk to Forzen. He was still a bit shaken up about the whole... arm thing.  Even if Chester had deserved it, it was still- a bit far, wasn't it?

While searching, he still managed to find pieces that were simply… out of place. Not jumbles, exactly, but as if it were a different language.

The same format he and Forzen were in.    
  
It had to be others. The ones he always saw Chester with. The ones Chester had decided were  _ good enough _ to keep around. Unlike him and Forzen.  Part of him wanted to hate them. They thought they were  _ better _ than him. But they were more stable than Forzen was. And Tommy had been so nice... Why couldn’t he be with Tommy instead of Forzen?

“What’re you looking at?” Forzen asked. 

“The code,” Darnold answered, only half paying attention. “I’m trying to find Chester’s code.” He didn’t want to talk to Forzen for fear he would upset the other man.

“Did you?”

“I did. But there’s also... another ‘Player’ as you called them.”

Forzen frowned. “Another... player?” 

“Yes.”

“I saw... something he didn’t make traveling with them...” Forzen recalled. “I didn’t think about it but... maybe that’s what you saw?”

“The guard... right?” Darnold asked.

Forzen nodded.

“He’s dangerous,” Darnold concluded, shivering a bit at the memory of his death at that monster’s hands.   
  
“He doesn’t matter,” Forzen insisted. “Chester didn’t make him.”   
  
“He might get in the way, though!” Darnold pointed out.    
  
“Then we’ll just get rid of him,” Forzen said dismissively. “Can’t be that hard.”

Darnold turned on Forzen in frustration, anger outweighing fear. “His code is complex and unreadable, just like Chester’s is. If he’s a player, that means he can-can read and edit the code. He can make himself unkillable or able to fly through walls! And before you ask how I know this, he did it in front of me. Like a deadly ghost that won’t bleed from a cut to the head. He took mine instead. I’m telling you, all Player-type codes are dangerous. If you want to get back at Chester, you’ll need to go through the other player, plus the rest of the AIs that decided to tag along.”

Forzen sneered down at him with a single eye.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Darnold deadpanned. “Typical.”

“Well, we mess with his code then!” Forzen snapped. “If his code’s _that_ complex, then it’ll freak out if you mess with it even a little!” 

“I don’t know if I could even do that!” Darnold gestured at the code in front of him. “He could just block any attempt I made!  And like I said, his code is  _ incomprehensible _ . I can’t even read it as-as- as Python or C++ or whatever other languages they have in Playerland! I managed to disable his cheats for a little while, but they could turn back on any minute now! ”   
  
“Fine, we don’t need to kill him then,” Forzen said, clearly getting frustrated. “Just separate them or something. I don’t care what happens to him, we just need him gone.”

“I can… fiddle with the others,” Darnold backed up a bit, tensing at Forzen’s anger. “Edit their code, make them look buggy and inferior to us. He’ll have to take us back when he has no one else to turn to, right?”   
  
Forzen shook his head, a sullen pout on his features. “He’ll just fix them.”

“Not if we do it while he’s weak, disabled, and alone. And every time he dies, he forgets being a Player. That’s how I understand it, anyway.”   
  
Forzen’s expression became confused. “He seemed fine to me... Are you sure?” 

“That’s what the guard told me. And he’s a player himself, he’s gotta know these things.”

Forzen rolled his eye. "Why is him being a player such a big deal?"

"He could damn well  _ destroy  _ us!” Darnold said, growing agitated once more. “Change our code, break our minds, have us forget our own names!"

Forzen shrugged and Darnold threw his arms up.

“Okay, you know what? Fine,” he said. “ I’m taking a walk, and… when I get back  I’ll mess around with his code. I’ll just shove my hands in and fuck everything up.”

At the very least it would slow them down enough so he and Forzen could come up with an  _ actual _ plan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Linking here to some LOVELY fanart by Mothra of Forzen from the last chapter- https://year2000electronics.tumblr.com/post/624382125362282496/sorry-isnt-good-enough-eternal-stream-belongs
> 
> @Mothra we owe you our lives.


	21. Are You Calling Me Your Brother?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darnold realizes he's made a mistake  
> Forzen reflects on the situation  
> And Chester recieves terrible news

Eventually, Tommy found Gordon and Benrey. They hadn’t moved, which had made things easier. Chester still hadn’t woken up, which worried Benrey quite a bit.

“O-Oh geez.” Tommy frowned, kneeling beside them. “Y-You look awful, Mr. Freeman.”

“I _feel_ awful,” Gordon mumbled. The HEV suit whined loudly about his vitals. 

Benrey missed when that thing was fucking quiet. It was annoying and it made him more worried than he already was. He already _knew_ Chester and Gordon weren’t okay. He could see it. He didn't need the reminder, especially when his mouth tasted like bitter ashes whenever he thought about what had happened.

“O-On the bright side, it’s go-good to see you’re still alive,” Tommy continued, managing a small smile. “I got pre-pretty worried that we’d lost you.”

“You did,” Gordon replied solemnly. “Chester died... again. Which is why...I’m in control.”  
  
Tommy tilted his head. “Gordon?”   
  
Gordon nodded.   
  
“I handle pain better than him,” Gordon explained. “He’s... He’s resting right now. I don’t know when he’ll wake up...”

The disarmed man sighed. “It’s for the best, really. He’s such a lightweight, his disorientation was making _me_ disoriented, and the suit seems to have an endless supply of morphine.” 

As if on cue, Gordon flinched as the suit injected him again.   
  
“ _Morphine administered,”_ it chirped.

“Fucking- see what I mean?”

Tommy giggled a little at him, and Gordon tilted his head at him.

“You k-kind of sounded like the other Mister Freeman there,” Tommy said with an apologetic smile.  
  
“You think so? He’s probably starting to rub off on me...” Gordon said. “I _do_ spend all my time in his head.” He joked.

“Makes sense.” Benrey nodded.

“A-Anyway, we sh-should get you somewhere where you can r-rest.” Tommy helped Gordon to his feet, wrapping Gordon’s arm around his shoulder so he could support Gordon properly. 

“Sounds good.” Gordon smiled weakly.

Together, the trio set off to find somewhere to hide for a bit. Tommy used himself as a crutch for the disarmed man, and Gordon gave him a grateful look.

=0=

Darnold was out on a walk. He decided he could use the fresh air and the alone time. He really got overheated easily sometimes.

And he… didn't want to think about the other AI's frightening behavior. His potion was brewing and he didn’t particularly _want_ to be around Forzen while it brewed. Forzen was the only companion he had, but...

The chatbot was really starting to freak him out. Forzen was just... creepy. He had the personality of a grumpy toddler, if that grumpy toddler had the ability to rip you limb from limb if the fancy struck it. Maybe he was better off trying his luck with the group again...

Darnold quickly shook his head, trying to dispel the thought. He’d already _tried_ that and it hadn’t gotten him anywhere. It had gone _worse_ than nowhere, actually- Darnold shuddered with the memory of the other Player ripping him apart. He _had_ messed up pretty badly, but that didn't mean ripping him apart was _okay._

“It has to be this way,” he told himself, although even as he said this his voice shook. 

Suddenly, his foot landed in something wet. He looked down with a frown to see what exactly it was he’d stepped in. 

....Oh. It was... blood. And a lot of it.

Darnold stumbled back, letting out a shriek as he looked wildly around. He was greeted with the sight of the room he and Forzen had ambushed Chester in. And there was Chester’s disembodied arm in the corner. 

Darnold’s eyes were fixed on the discarded limb. There was a pool of blood under it, dark and congealed. He could see the shattered bone sticking out from the exposed flesh and muscle like a stick stuck in the mud. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the arm when Forzen had torn it off in the first place, but now the sight of it was enough to make him empty the contents of his stomach into a corner. 

Suddenly, his mind was filled with the memory of that moment. The awful cracking sound that bone had made when Forzen had broken it. The wet sound of tearing flesh. The screaming of the HEV suit as it had removed the arm as if it had been crushed by a boulder instead of twisted and almost ripped off entirely by the man that was supposed to be his working partner.

The look of manic glee on Forzen’s face. 

Oh god... Frozen had _enjoyed_ it. 

The realization struck Darnold like a bullet, making his whole body feel cold. 

Forzen had _enjoyed_ hurting Chester. 

What had he done in allying himself with such a monster? 

  
If he’d done that to his _Creator_ , what was he going to do to Darnold when he outlived his usefulness? It was almost enough to make him throw up again.

He stumbled away from his puddle of vomit, collapsing to the ground and beginning to cry. 

This was wrong. This was all wrong. Even with what Chester had done, even though he had abandoned them, this wasn't _right_ . This was wrong, what they had done was _wrong_ , and, in the end-

All he’d wanted was to be accepted, to be _wanted_. He hadn’t wanted any of this. He hadn’t wanted to hurt Chester. But it had happened all the same. The proof was sitting there, barely a few feet away, cold and rotting and unfixable. But… maybe he could fix something else.

Darnold sat there for what felt like forever, wailing out his feelings. Once he felt a bit better, he got up and went back to his lab. 

Forzen was still there, looking simultaneously bored and pissed off. 

“You were gone for forever!” He whined. “Where’d you even go?”

“Just... around,” Darnold answered. 

Forzen rolled his eye, muttering something under his breath. 

Darnold knew now that the chatbot would most certainly kill him when this was all over. He could see it literally written on his face. The soldier hated him just as much as the others. He could see the betrayal coming from ten nautical miles away.

He’d told Forzen that this latest brew he was working on would be to scramble the other’s code and weaken them. Forzen seemed to have already forgotten he’d already agreed to scramble their code earlier. As frightened as Darnold was of the other, Forzen really did have the memory of a goldfish.

But he needed a contingency plan for the inevitable betrayal. Dodging it... shouldn’t be all that hard. He’d seen Forzen’s code. He looked like he was held together with duct tape and glue. 

But still, he had to be careful. He’d seen what the chatbot was willing to do for revenge. He didn’t doubt that Forzen would destroy him if he crossed him. 

“Is it done yet?” Forzen whined. He’d been pacing the office for the past few minutes, clearly bored. 

“It should be done soon,” Darnold assured him, trying to keep his voice calm and even. 

“I’m tired of waiting!” Forzen picked up a chair and threw it against the wall, where it shattered like glass, causing Darnold to jump.

“I don’t know what to tell you.” The tiniest bit of fear crept into Darnold’s voice. “These things take a bit.”   
  
“Whatever.” The bot grumbled as he stormed out of the room. “I’m going to find something else to do.”   
  
He slammed the lab door shut behind him.

Darnold could only stand and shudder, wide-eyed. God, it was probably only a matter of time before Forzen broke _him_ like that. 

He turned to his elixir and added the final drops left over from that code disabling potion he'd made for the guard to his mix. Hopefully, it would work on Forzen just as well as it had on the guard.

It was clear some influence had been taken from the surprise player. So maybe a little code disabler should do the trick. Darnold looked over at the door Forzen had left through.

Maybe… while Forzen was gone, Darnold could make something- well, it wouldn't fix what they had done, but it might just make dealing with the effects easier. 

He'd just have to hope they found it, and that Forzen didn't.

...Hopefully, the chatbot would be in a better mood when he came back. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if Forzen decided to take his anger out on him.

=0=

  
Forzen fucking hated thinking. It was annoying, difficult. His life used to be so _easy_. 

But then Chester had to leave. He had to wake up in that folder all alone, then be dragged into this stupid game.  
  
He hated it, he hated every bit of it.   
  
Hate was a very new and strange concept to Forzen, as were most emotions. He had a basic understanding of them, of course, but _feeling_ them was different. He was a chat bot, made to repeat things. His coding simply didn’t have the capacity to understand complex feelings and emotions.   
  
Which just made him even angrier, and when he started to feel _too_ angry he started getting fuzzy around the edges, his voice picking up a painful static.   
  
He _hated_ emotions. He _hated_ being alive. All he wanted was to go back to the way things _were._   
  
A lone headcrab jumped in his direction. Forzen slapped it into the wall with a horrible wet _crunch_ , killing it instantly. He stared at the poor creature with the indifference a bot like him _should_ have.

“I can’t wait to get outta here,” he grumbled, staring at the creature’s corpse. “This place blows.”

It would all be over soon, he told himself. Soon, Chester would realize his mistake and then everything would go back to the way it had been before. All those _other_ AIs would be gone. It would just be him and Chester. 

The way it was _supposed_ to be. 

He stomped on the lifeless creature, watching it splatter into that yellowy-green liquid with a small smile on his face. He found himself wishing there were more of these things around.   
  
...Was Darnold fucking _done_ yet? Maybe he should go check on him. 

He turned and there's the fake nerd, who stood shivering behind him.

"I-I can't let the arm thing happen again," Darnold stated with alarming clarity. In his arms, he cradled a flask filled with slightly glowing liquid that shifted colors in a nauseating manner.

"So it's done?" Forzen probed.

Darnold nodded, looking a little guilty. Forzen stomped over and roughly grabbed Darnold from the top of his head.

"Give it."

"I-I think I should hold it. Just in-in case." Darnold insisted. His brown eyes were unsure but they focused on Forzen's single eye.

Forzen glared at him, enjoying the way it made the scientist squirm.  
  
“Fine.” He said, letting go. “One less thing for me to do.” 

Darnold stares at him almost expectantly.

"Whaddaya want?" Forzen snapped.

The scientist quickly looked away, “Nothing, nothing...”

“You sure? Sure looked like you had something to tell me.” Forzen leaned forward, getting into Darnold’s face. 

Darnold instinctively took a step back. “I-I... I just want this to be over,” he said, his voice shaking. “I want to finish this.”

“Good. Me too. So let’s get going.” Forzen started to turn away.

“That’s not- ...That’s not what I meant.” Darnold stammered.  
  
Forzen whipped back around.   
  
“Do we... Do we really have to do this?” Darnold asked, his voice going high. “Can’t we just... talk to them?”

Forzen leaned into Darnold's face. "Aren't you angry? He abandoned you. Ignored you, and sicced his attack guards on you when it got convenient."

"To be fair, I sniped him when the guard came after me…" Darnold muttered.  
  
“He still left you to **_rot!_ ** ” Forzen roared. “Doesn’t that hurt? Don’t you want to hurt him _back?!_ ”

Darnold flinched at the sudden yelling. Forzen narrowed his eyes at him, realizing something.

"You're scared of me, aren't you?" Forzen’s smile grew wide, fanged, _predatory,_ and his voice dripped with venom. “We’re working together aren’t we? I won’t hurt you.”

Darnold didn’t believe that at all. Forzen wouldn’t want to share Chester. As soon as he was no longer useful to the chatbot, Darnold had no doubt he would be disposed of. 

“You have, erm, a very strong presence,” Darnold managed to stammer out. 

“...Thank you,” Forzen smirked. “Now uh... you were gonna do something for me, before you went on your little walk, weren’t you? What was it?”

...Right. He had told Forzen that he was going to scramble up the others’ code when he got back, hadn’t he? He didn’t really _want_ to, but- there was a sick feeling in his stomach that told him that crossing Forzen would be a very, very bad idea, even though he didn’t really- want to hurt the others anymore.

  
“So you gonna remind me? Or am I going to have to force it out of you?” Forzen said, that smile not leaving his face, speaking like it was a casual question, not a threat on Darnold’s life.

“I-I- are you sure it’s a good idea? I might accidentally make them stronger.”  
  
“Oh riiiight you were gonna scramble their code up. Get on that.” Forzen demanded dismissively. 

“B-but if we could just talk to them-”

Forzen grabbed Darnold by the temples with a single hand.  
  
“Get on that,” he repeated. His smile widened. It looked more like a grimace than a smile at this point. Or a threat display.

Darnold let out a small whimper, trying to will away the tears that were welling up in his eyes. 

“O-Okay,” was all he felt capable of saying without completely breaking down. 

“Good.” Forzen’s smile relaxed, but he didn’t let go of Darnold just yet. “We’re leaving once you’re done.” He leaned in close. “And this better work. Or else.” 

Darnold nodded frantically, looking into the streams of code. He didn’t know whether to actually mess with the code or just make movements to fake it. Surely, Forzen wouldn’t know the difference if he just pretended. 

He raised his hands, furrowing his brow as if he were focusing on something. He began to mime what he thought was the best approximation, grabbing and pulling as though plucking the strings of a harp. If Forzen noticed Darnold was only pretending, he didn’t comment on it. 

After a few minutes of this pantomime, he turned back to Forzen. “Alright. I’m finished.”  
  
“You really think I’m that stupid?” Forzen sneered. “Do it for real.” 

“Huh?” Darnold felt his stomach drop. How had he known? 

“Do. It. For. Real.” Forzen repeated, emphasizing every word. “I'm not _that_ easy to trick.”

“H-How did you kn-”

“I just do!” Forzen snapped. “Why won’t you do it? Why are you helping them?! They abandoned you remember? You mean _nothing_ to them!”

“I’m not!” Darnold insisted. “I just don’t know how to do it!”

“You did it last time to pull me out!” Frozen advanced on Darnold, looming over him. “So do it again!”

“Okay! Okay!” Darnold put his hands up. “I-I’ll do it!”

Frozen stopped his advance, narrowing his eyes. Darnold took a deep breath, reaching out for the code. He found it, the strings flashing before his eyes. Despite his better judgement, he reached in and began to rip and pull. 

Forzen watched him intently, looking for any sign of deception as Darnold grabbed and pulled with no regard for the effect it would have on the other AI’s. But still, he avoided Tommy’s code as best he could. If worse came to worse, Tommy could find some way to stop them.

Finally, Darnold stepped away, his whole body shaking as his arms fell to his sides.

Forzen smiled, genuine this time, flipping like a switch. “Good. Now are we going or not?”

“Yeah.” Darnold nodded slowly. “Just... Just give me a minute. There’s one more thing I want to do.”

“I thought you were done!” Forzen’s temper flared again. “What else do you want to do?!” The green text on his screen turned red as he grabbed Darnold by the shirt. 

“A trap!” Darnold put his hands up. “I want to set a trap for them!”  
  
Forzen considered this for a moment. Might not be a bad idea…

"Considering one of their members is missing an arm, they might try seeking me out to get it fixed!” Darnold continued. “So-so I can leave a dummy potion behind that'll hurt 'em all if they open it up!" 

  
Forzen’s smile grew wide, that was genius! He might even consider not killing Darnold when this was all over!   
  
...Nah.

This dunce would just be leftover code when all was said and done. Nothing but a reminder of the ordeal they’d gone through. It would be better to just dispose of him.

Forzen grabbed Darnold by the head, turned him around, and pushed him back towards his brewery, nearly knocking him over "Go make the thing. I want to go say _hi_ up front while you go do that."   
  
When Darnold looked up again, the bot had vanished. 

=0=

Chester didn’t feel so good.

His head was still spinning as his body moved forward without him. Everything felt so, so distant. He was pretty sure everything was becoming clearer, though.   
  
_“...What did I lose?”_ He found himself asking, combing his memory for any new holes.   
  
“I-I think Chester is starting to wake up!” He heard Gordon say with his mouth. 

_His arm._

_He lost his arm._

He needed to go home. To-to-to his parents and sister and nephew.  
  
His... his sister. What was her name?   
  
_Oh god._

He stared at the collection of pixels in his mindspace that trailed from his arm stump. Colorful. Iridescent. Beautiful, even. Just ones and zeros floating into the void. He almost didn’t notice the pain. 

He traced his remaining hand along the mirror’s new crack. 

Gordon stood before him, his haggard expression showing his mental and physical fatigue.

“Are you okay?” He asked, placing a hand on the glass. 

Chester didn’t immediately answer, too preoccupied with the pixels. 

His eyes trailed over to Gordon’s arm in the mirror. Chester clutched at his missing arm.

“... I’m sorry…”  
  
“What for?” Gordon asked, so full of sincerity that it hurt to look at him. “None of this was your fault.”

“But it was!” Chester insisted. “If I hadn’t abandoned Forzen, none of this would have happened!”

“You were going through a lot,” Gordon assured him. “You couldn’t have known this was going to happen.”

“And-And I made you take control too!” Chester continued on as though he hadn’t heard anything Gordon had said. He was starting to cry. “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

Gordon gently pressed his hand to the cracked glass with a somber expression. “You couldn’t have known.”

“All I ever do is hurt people!” Chester covered his face with his one remaining hand. “You, the others, Forzen. I’m nothing but a burden!”

“Don’t say that.” Gordon’s tone was gentle but firm. “ _You_ didn’t hurt me, Frozen did. And you didn’t hurt Bubby or the others either.”

“I’m the one that made Forzen, Gordon!” Chester shot back. “If I weren’t here, none of this would be happening! I’m-I’m just a cashier that has no business trying to code anything!”

“Actually, uh, you got fired, remember?” Gordon smiled sheepishly. “You’re... kind of not a cashier anymore.”

Chester felt like the floor had been dropped out from underneath him.

“... What?”  
  
“I’m- I’m sorry were you not... You didn’t hear the donation?” Gordon’s sheepish smile turned to an expression of sympathy and worry.

“What donation?!” Chester yelled. “I don’t- I haven’t had my helmet since the arm thing happened!”  
  
“Tommy gave it back when he found us.” 

Chester pressed himself against the glass. “What-what did the donation say? I need to know.”

“Well... it was someone claiming to be a nurse, taking care of your body while you’re stuck here...” Gordon began. 

“... A-and she said she got some message that I lost my job?” Chester asked quietly, putting two and two together.  
  
Gordon nodded, looking down at the ground. “I’m sorry...”

Chester’s expression hardened. “Give me control, Gordon.”  
  
“Are- are you sure?” Gordon asked. “You just woke up! And I can handle the morphine better than you!”

“Let. Me have. Con-”

Chester snapped awake to a searing pain up his arm. But he ignored it.  
  
“Where’s Bubby?” he slurred out, rolling onto his side.   
  
“Chester?” Benrey asked, noticing the change in his voice. Only Tommy noticed the way he seemed to brighten at this.   
  
“Yeah, s’me.”

Chester spits the angry sweetvoice away from his lips. “Where’s that ffffuckin’ backstabber?”  
  
“We haven’t found him yet Mr. Freeman,” Tommy explained. “He and Mr. Coomer went a different direction looking for you.”

Chester used his good hand to wipe his mouth clean. “I have a bone to pick with him. Especially for making me relive Fullmetal Alchemist without my permission.”  
  
“...Mr. Freeman, are you feeling okay?” Tommy frowned. “Did you hit your head?” He wasn’t entirely sure what Chester was talking about, not having heard of Fullmetal Alchemist.

“No, I’m fucking pissed! I got betrayed by one of the only people I can trust in this hellhole!”  
  
 _“Wait am I Al in this comparison?”_ Gordon asked, still hung up on the reference.

Chester didn’t respond, forcing himself to stand up despite the protests of his companions. “Let’s go find the others.”  
  
 _“Are you calling me your brother??”_

Chester briefly toyed with the idea of himself and Gordon as the Elric brothers for the amusement of it. And to make his point clear.

He felt the distinct impression of being touched from Gordon.   
  
“ _I didn’t know you thought of me that way...”_ Gordon said. _“Thank you._ ” 

Chester couldn't stop the swell of love he felt. He never imagined he'd find himself becoming this close with… anyone, frankly. He _had_ started this whole project with the intention to make friends... It had just worked out a little differently than he expected.

“So... We going?” Benrey asked, still hovering close to Chester. 

“Yeah, we’re going.” Chester nodded, unable to keep himself from smiling. 

His companions smiled as well, taking comfort in Chester’s energy. 

“Let’s fuckin’ find that traitor!” Benrey whooped, grabbing Chester’s free hand and starting to sprint down the hall. 

Tommy let out a long-suffering sigh, although his smile didn’t drop. He took off after the two, ready to carry them if either exhausted themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading Chapter 21 of Something New! We hope you enjoyed this chapter. Normally, we update on a schedule of a new chapter every 1-3 days, buuuuuuuuuuuut the next chapter is gonna be a very special treat for all of you guys, and we're gonna need a liiiiiittle more time with it. 
> 
> Get ready for the BIG SHOW, and mind the content warnings, because Something New returns on August 2nd with an extra-long chapter and TWO bonus mini-chapters releasing alongside it. 
> 
> And if you've figured out where we are in canon, well... get ready for a little twist, and a preview of things to come.
> 
> See you all then!~
> 
> \- Tabby


	22. Don't you want to play with me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Actions have consequences, and some of them fall into place. Chester reunites with his old friend and is pushed too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, this chapter is gonna be a little bit heavier on the gore side than usual, so keep that in mind if you're uncomfortable with that sort of thing!

Chester surfaced from yet another pool of sewage he’d been forced to swim through, gasping for breath. Tommy kept saying it was “clean water”, but all three of them knew it was anything but. 

“I hope I don’t get an infection from this,” Chester grumbled as Benrey helped him onto the platform. 

“I-I’m not sure if you ca-can get an infection in a game,” Tommy said, although he didn’t sound entirely sure.  
  
“I didn’t think you could get dehydrated either, but here we are,” Chester remarked. “We need to find a medkit with some fucking antibiotics and some bandages.”  
  
_“Blood for Chester,”_ Gordon chirped.

“Yes. Blood for Gordon too,” Chester found himself smiling.  
  
There still wasn’t any sign of Bubby and Coomer. Where could they _be,_ anyway? They had apparently split off to look for him, so they couldn't be _too_ far, right? It was… concerning. What if they ran into Forzen?

“Wonder where soldier boy’s at,” Benrey muttered darkly. “I’d love to get my hands on him.” A growl entered his voice as he kicked a wall.

“I-I think you sh-should hold off on that until y-you’ve got your powers back,” Tommy suggested. 

Benrey grumbled, but said nothing else as their trio continued on.  
  
“How much longer do you think that potion is going to last?” Chester asked, getting nervous. They hadn’t run into many enemies lately but... 

What if the two of them weren’t able to protect him? He didn’t want to die again…

“I think-think-think-think-think it’s running out,” Benery grumbled. His voice sounded oddly jittery and there was an odd fuzz to the air around him.  
  
“...Benrey?”

“I’m fine-fine-fine-fine-fine-fine.” He sounded like a skipping CD. Chester grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Something’s up, isn’t it?”

Benery stammered a single syllable out like a frozen Windows program. And his eyes- 

He started to crumple in on himself, like a soda can being crushed by the deep ocean, his expression twisting into one of pain, as he choked out a few wobbly bubbles of sweetvoice with a glitchy, horrible sound that cut off into silence as soon as it began. 

“Crimson to smoke! That-that means _something broke!_ ”

=0=

Benery didn’t know what was happening, but he didn’t like it. It felt like someone had reached their hand into his soul and was digging around in it, tearing out whatever bits and pieces they wanted. His hands in front of him glitched and warped, showing the base model underneath, without his modifications. Without the things that made him _him,_ that made him _Benrey_ , not some generic, lost NPC. The last thing he had from his old life. He felt a flare of panic at the thought of losing _this_ too. He couldn’t lose this, couldn’t lose the one thing that made him **_him_**. He didn’t have anything else. He couldn’t lose _this_. That would be terrifying _without_ the agonizing, almost _violating_ sensation of being ripped apart by _something_ , and he couldn’t speak, couldn’t even scream if he wanted to.  
  
Chester was there, talking to him, saying something, and it was probably meant to be comforting, and might have been if he could _think-_ but he couldn’t think through the pain of his whole _being_ being ripped apart.  
  
Until-  
  
The sensation of his code being ripped to pieces stopped as suddenly as it had begun, and the damage was done, it _hurt_ , but at least it wasn’t hurting _more._ He collapsed into Chester’s arms, just _clinging_ to the man like a lifeline. There was blood (Chester’s blood. He wouldn’t think about that right now. He couldn’t think about that right now) soaking into the back of his shirt but he didn’t care. Chester was... warm, safe. He felt a painful cold jitter go up his arms and clung to Chester tighter, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt his model _glitch_.

He let out a small whimper, his nails scraping across the metal of the HEV suit. Why was this happening to _him_ ? He wasn’t _supposed_ to break. What more could be broken when there was barely anything left? 

He could barely make out Chester yelling his name. That was the only thing he recognized. The rest was garbled static. Nothing else mattered as long as he at least had his _name_ . It was his. He’d chosen it himself. It had been all he’d had all that time. As long as he had _that_ , he’d be alright. They couldn’t take that from him. 

_Or could they?_

The panic started all over again. His mind raced. If his _body_ could be torn apart like this, why not his mind? It was already held together by duct tape and sheer force of will. It likely wouldn’t take much to make him forget everything all over again. 

“Don-Don-Don’t make me forget again,” he started to sob. “I don-don-don’t wanna forget-get-get again.”

Chester squeezed him back, he could barely feel it through the static. “I won't, I promise, you’re safe.” 

“Don’t let me get-get-get-get-get- don’t let them reset me. Game-game-game over bro-oh-oh-oh.” His words just kept skipping and skipping. He couldn’t get them out. They caught in his throat and choked him until his breaths are gasping- shallow and quick with panic tightening in his chest like a spring compressing but it never _stopped_ and it _hurt,_ it hurt like anything, and _he doesn’t want to forget again._  
  
Chester and Tommy were talking but he couldn’t hear them, it was all just static and electronic screeching.  
  
He opened his mouth to scream but all that came out was sweetvoice. A mess of colors that ran together in a flood and even lost some of its textures. His bubbles popped, and color cascaded everywhere.

And all of it was in that dreaded magenta and black checker pattern.  
  
Tommy squeaked something that Benery couldn’t hear.

Benery curled clawed fingers onto the HEV suit with a death grip, actually deforming the metal with desperate strength. He hurt. He hurt. He hated it here. This was awful, everything was awful and he- wanted to go home. 

He wanted to go _home._

**_“I want to go home, I want to go home, I want to go home._ **

**_Iwannagohomeiwannagohomewannagohomewannagohome.”_ **

He didn’t notice (couldn’t notice, under the pain and the terror and the spiraling, choking nature of his own thoughts) but he was mumbling those words through glitchy, pained breaths while he _clung_ to Chester.

_He’s tired of playing and he wants to go to bed._

“Hey, it’s okay,” Chester’s voice cut through his panic. 

It was clear Chester was shaken up too, but still, he held Benrey close, both arms wrapped around him. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Chester said. “We’ll get outta here and then you can go home.”

Immediately, an image surfaced in Benrey’s mind, a vision of what he wanted _home_ to be. Himself on a couch, and Chester at his side. 

Wherever his home was, he wanted Chester to be there. He managed to pull himself together enough to lift up his head and look into Chester’s eyes.  
  
...they were such a deep beautiful green. Like an emerald, or, or... Jade? Fuck if he knew. Something pretty and green. They were so grounding.

“I like your eyes,” Benery muttered, reaching out with a lazy hand to cup Chester’s cheek. 

There was no static in his voice.

Chester let out the breath he was holding and smiled. The armored man hugged him close.

=0=

Chester was still shaking a little, but he was so, _so_ glad that Benrey seemed to be alright. It had been terrifying to watch him glitch out like that. What could have possibly caused it? 

“I-Is he okay n-now?” Tommy asked. His hands were red from all the wringing he’d been doing.

“I think so,” Chester answered, trying to will himself to relax. “Do...Do you know what caused that?”

Tommy shook his head, brow furrowing. “Not re-really. It ki-kinda seemed like someone m-messed with his co-code.”

“How would someone mess with _his_ code?” Chester asked. “He’s not an AI!” 

“We-Well...” Tommy frowned, starting to wring his hands again. “To exist he-here, you k-kind of _have_ to-to have code. It’s no-not the _same_ as ours, bu-but it’s still there.”

Chester frowned as well. He wanted to delve more into this, but he knew they probably didn’t have time for it right then. 

“Okay, we’ll figure that out later,” he said to himself, struggling to his feet and dragging Benrey with him. The other man flopped bonelessly about, still staring up at Chester in absolute wonder. 

“I-I can take him,” Tommy offered, picking Benrey up and throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before Chester could argue. 

“Thanks.” Chester managed a weak smile. He was still feeling kind of dizzy from the blood loss and couldn’t help but notice how nice Benrey’s butt looked. His face flushed, and Chester looked away, blushing. Benrey was cute, but now was _not_ the time to develop a crush and get tongue-tied around a pretty boy.

He tried to shake it off, following Tommy as the taller man began to move.  
  
They came across _another_ sewer pipe and no other way forward. He sighed heavily. They'd have to swim.

"I'm so fucking tired of water,” he grumbled. 

“S-S-Sorry.” Tommy smiled apologetically.  
  
“It’s fine, Tommy. Let’s just- get it over with. Like ripping off a bandaid.” If ripping off a bandaid was the same as plunging into murky sewage water with an open wound where your arm should be. The HEV suit was already heavy enough in the water- his lack of an arm just made swimming harder.  
  
Chester shook his head. If he thought about all the ways his life was horrible right now, he would probably just curl up into a ball in the corner and die. Again. And he preferred to _live_ , thank you.  
  
He shook his head and plunged into the murky water, half swimming and half dragging himself along the walls with his good arm until he emerged from an open grate in a room, hauling himself out of the water with gasping breaths and blinking the sewage from his eyes until he could focus them.

The first thing he saw when his vision cleared was the grinning face of Forzen. The man sat cross-legged on the floor, just staring at Chester with a lazy grin filled with so many teeth. 

"What took you so loooong?” He whined. “Do you have any idea how fucking _boring_ this place is when there's no one around?"

Forzen stood up, stretching like a panther, like some great predator hauling itself out of a nap in the sun and showing off all the teeth in its maw. “I’ve been waiting here for hooours.” He paused, staring at Chester and tilting his head. “You don’t look happy to see me? Come on, didn’t you miss your best friend?” He stepped forward, crossing the room in strides longer than a man should be able to make, then leaned forwards, getting in Chester’s face. “I’ve missed you.” 

Chester’s first instinct was to scream, to run, to do _something_ . But he couldn’t. His body locked up, refusing to move for a few long seconds . He just stared up at Forzen with wide eyes and panic tightening his throat until something _broke_ and suddenly he could move again, shoving himself away from Forzen with a scream and trying to escape back into the water.  
  
Before he could blink he was lifted into the air by his injured arm, biting back a scream as Forzen squeezed it so tightly he could feel the remaining bones creaking from the stress , with what little progress the wound had made in healing ripped away in an instant.  
  
“Aw come on, don’t you want to play with me?” Forzen asked, smiling like he wasn’t threatening to snap what little remained of Chester’s arm in two. “Like old times? You can’t leave yet!” 

Chester screamed. It was the only thing he could do as Forzen’s grip tightened and pain lanced through the offending limb, his vision going white again for a split second.

“Come on, bro, say something,” Forzen demanded, sounding every bit like a petulant child, shaking Chester like a toy. “Don’t leave me hanging like this, _say something!_ ” 

Chester’s only reply was a whimper of pain. Even if he had _wanted_ to say something, he _couldn’t-_ he was in too much pain to speak right now. Forzen’s smile dropped.

“SAY SOMETHING!” He repeated, continuing to shake Chester like the HEV suit was nothing more than a paper bag

“It hurts,” Chester managed to force out. “Please…Put...Put me down...”

“And why should I?” the bot asked in a dangerously quiet voice. “If I do, you’ll just leave me again.”

Forzen let Chester hang and beg for several moments before finally releasing him.

“Fiiiine...” Forzen groaned, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. 

Chester cried out again as he landed on his once more broken arm. The HEV suit said something about some kind of damage. Its cool robot voice was distorted and glitchy, skipping words. It was hard to tell whether it was referring to the damage to Chester’s body or the damage to the suit itself.

“Only because you said please,” Forzen said, like he was doing Chester a big favor. 

“Hey! Leave him alo̴n̷e!” Benrey’s voice came from the grate where Chester had surfaced, carrying with it a haze of static. Chester turned his body, painfully, slowly, to look. 

Benrey stood just in front of the grate, leaning heavily on Tommy. He was trying to look imposing. It wasn't working.

Forzen’s response to this was to pick Chester up once more, again by his injured arm. Chester yelped, tears welling up in his eyes, sweetvoice dripping down his chin in a mixed slurry that turned a greyish black.

“What’re _you_ gonna do about it?” He asked with a smirk. “You really think you can stop me?”  
  
Forzen dangled Chester in front of his companions, like a bully holding a toy out of another child’s reach. 

Chester could see panic and fear reflected in Benrey’s blue eyes. He pushed himself off of Tommy, lunging for Forzen. Only to fall flat on his face when his boot momentarily clipped into the floor. Still, he attempted to drag himself toward the soldier, nails scraping on the concrete floor. 

“Be-Benrey, stop!” Tommy pleaded, attempting to drag Benrey back. But Benrey kicked and fought, trying desperately to get to Chester. 

“What’s wrong?” Forzen asked in a sing-song voice. “Having trouble with your code?” He cackled.

Benrey’s eyes flashed, literally lighting up, and he screamed. Orbs of sweetvoice rocketed out, flying past Forzen to hit the wall with numerous splats. 

“That’s a cute trick you’ve got there. Was that supposed to do something?” Forzen asked, his smile decidedly mocking. 

“Di-Did you do this to him?” Tommy demanded. “Are _yo-you_ responsible for his glitching?”  
  
“Nah, Darnold did that for me. He’s a cool guy, almost can’t believe he’s one of you _cheap stand-ins_.” He lifted Chester up to look him in the eye. “You made uhhhhh real big mistake there, didn’t ya? Leaving him behind.” 

“I didn’t...didn’t mean to,” Chester whimpered. “I didn’t...didn’t wanna hurt anyone. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He could feel tears welling up in his eyes once more.

“Leave him alone!” Benrey repeated, continuing to struggle against Tommy’s grip.

Forzen ignored him. “Didn’t wanna hurt anyone huh? Like how you hurt _me_ ?” A growl entered his voice as his anger flared, his grip on Chester’s arm tightening and sending more flashes of pain through Chester .  
  
“I didn’t- didn’t-”  
  
“Didn’t _what_ huh?” Forzen shook him like he was a goldfish in a bag, further scraping the fractured bone against flesh and metal.  
  
“ I'm sorry, just Pl- Please... Don’t hurt them .” Chester squeaked out. “Do...Do whatever you want to me, just...Please don’t hurt them.”  
  
Forzen’s scowl deepened. “Why the fuck are you worrying about _them_?! They don’t matter!”

“I’m sorry!” Chester screamed as Forzen’s grip tightened again. “Don’t hurt them!”  
  
Forzen growled and grabbed Chester’s other arm, digging his fingers into the shoulders with an implicit threat (He had ripped off Chester’s arm so _easily_ last time) before starting to shake him up and down like a soda can. “ **STOP CARING ABOUT THEM!!** ”

“Y-You can’t ju-just expect him to stop caring,” Tommy said. “It’s no-not that easy.”

“I didn’t ask you!” Forzen snarled. 

“Baby doesn’t know how feelings work,” Benrey slurred with a smug smirk. “Fuckin’...Fuckin’ loser. Doesn’t even get feelings.”  
  
The sound of static filled the room as Forzen’s form flickered. He squeezed Chester’s arm harder and harder until-  
  
_crACKKK_

Chester screamed, the sound so full of pain and terror it set everyone on edge. Even Forzen suddenly froze in place, the static stopping as fast as it came. There was a cracked dent in the orange of the suit right around the area of Chester’s bicep. The suit had broken _inwards,_ jagged metal digging its way deep into his already-abused arm, and Chester was clearly trying to hold back tears. The suit was playing an error message on loop, suggesting Chester visit a qualified technician to deal with the damage to the suit. The suit’s voice was fully distorted now, barely understandable. 

Forzen quickly changed his grip, holding Chester by his ponytail and shaking off the metal bits clinging to his hand. “See? This is why we can’t have nice things. You threw the nice things out and grabbed trash instead.” 

Chester wheezed out a pained sob, a single bubble of raw, pure misery escaping his lips and splattering. 

There was the single crack of a gun, and Forzen dropped Chester again due to the new hole in his hand. Chester crumpled to the ground like his plug had been pulled, and curled around his arm, squeezing his eyes shut. He wanted to get up, run, get away from Forzen and to Tommy and Benrey but he couldn’t bring himself to _move._ Not with his arm crushed like a tin can. 

“Hey...I got you, bro.” He heard Benrey’s voice close by. “I go̵t̵ you.” 

He felt a touch on his shoulder, which only served to jostle the metal shards and make him scream in pain once more. 

“Sorry.” The hand was removed. “But, like, I’m...I’m here.”

“W-We need to get out of here,” Tommy said, and Chester could hear the scraping of cloth on concrete, presumably Tommy kneeling down. 

“Dude...I don’t think we can move him. Not when he’s like this.”

There was a long sigh, as well as another gunshot. 

“I kn-know...”  
  
Chester cracked one eye open and spotted a med station on the opposite side of the room up a set of stairs. Maybe if he could just-  
  
A boot stomped down in front of his face.

 **“STAY AWAY FROM HIM!!”** Forzen boomed. “ **HE BELONGS TO** **_ME_ ** **!”** **  
**  
“He-he-he-he’s not your fucking-ing-ing toy!” Benrey made another attempt to lunge at Forzen.

The chatbot easily slapped him to the ground with a truly horrifying amount of force, sending Benrey crashing into the metal floor of the room with a horrible _crunch_ of bone, and the man let out a short, animal cry of pain that cut out into buzzing static. As he hit the floor, his model glitched once more. For a moment, it was the generic guard NPC laying on the ground in a stiff t-pose. Then the familiar form of Benrey returned, although it did little to make Chester feel better.

Human bodies- even dubiously human bodies- are not built for collision with unyielding metal. Flesh and bone have infinitely more give than steel. 

Twitching in pain, Chester reached for Benrey, eyes going wide in horror. Benrey lay in a crumpled heap, like a discarded doll, emanating a static, buzzing noise that hurt to hear. The only sign that he was still _alive_ was the missing-texture sweetvoice dripping from his mouth like blood. Laying in that heap as he was, it was clear how broken and battered Benrey’s body was. The limbs in positions they should not have been in, bent at odd angles and quickly becoming saturated with blood.

“He’s mine!” Forzen repeated, stamping his foot. “He doesn’t need _any_ of you! He just needs **me**!” He looked down, noticing Chester’s hand reaching out. Forzen growled and stomped on his fingers, causing Chester to flinch and instinctively pull his hand back.

Chester had screamed himself raw by this point, and all the pain blended together in his mind. Everything just hurt too much to distinguish any specific pain. He was so tired. It was hard to stay conscious. He could hear Tommy yelling and gunshots but nothing _stuck_ . Everything around him felt like it was filtered through a fog of misery and blood. 

Time felt like it had come to a crawl- every torturous second dragging itself out for what felt like hours as Chester just- stared at the broken body across from him. 

And through the fog, he realized- that he was _so fucking angry._ That he was angrier than he had ever been in his life. 

Distantly, there was another cry of pain and the gunshots stopped temporarily. Out of the corner of his eye he could just barely see Tommy, lying on the floor bleeding.  
  
It was over. They’d lost.

Forzen stepped into Chester’s line of sight, nudging Benrey with his boot and saying something, before picking Benrey up, snapping his neck and throwing him away like a piece of garbage, static instantly cutting to silence. With the source of the annoying noise taken care of, Forzen turned back towards Chester and smiled, picking Chester up like a child might pick up a discarded doll. “Now, Where were we?”

Chester saw red. He _was_ red- all the pain, all the fog, all the misery was smothered by a single, crystal-clear thought.

How dare he? 

**_How dare he?!_ **

“How-how about… how about you take that fucking homemade body of yours and **_GO FUCK YOURSELF!_ **” He roared, spitting blood in Forzen’s shoes. His voice was filled with utter, bleeding hatred, his eyes alight with rage. Had he been able to move more, he likely would have attempted to swing at Forzen. 

Forzen flinched, caught off guard by the sheer amount of venom with which Chester had spoken. The expression on his face was that of a child who had been reprimanded by someone they very much admired.

“Rip off a baby’s fucking head while you’re at it! You’re doing great in the fucking asshole department! Might as well just jump straight into reprehensible territory! You’re clearly capable of it!” 

That fire in Chester only doubled as he spoke, staring at Forzen with a gaze filled with malice. “I don’t recognize anything about you. You say you’re Forzen, but all I see is a bastard that just wants to see me suffer. What fucking friend goes out of their way to-to attack another friend?! Disable them, then rip their heart out by going after their other friends?!”

“But I-”  
  
“I _hate_ you. Since you showed up you've been nothing but cruel, and awful, and- and I'm not going to let you keep hurting the people I love.”

“But...But they’re just replacements!” Forzen’s voice took on a whining tone. “I’m your best friend!”

“You can have more than one best friend, dipshit!” Chester barked. “You say you care about me, but all you've done is treat me like a _toy_ , like a possession you can _have_ and hurt the people I care about! That's not how you treat your fucking _friends_ ! You act like a schoolyard bully stealing some- toy from the other kids except you're playing with _lives!_ ”

“These guys, they’re just as fucking real as I am. And I’m not just going to let anyone rip them away from me! I built them, they’re my goddamn _family!_ ”  
  
“ ** _I_** was your family! You built **_ME_**!”

“And I didn’t mean to leave you behind! Stuff happened! What do you think doing this to me will _do?!”_

Forzen froze suddenly, looking confused, as if he believed his motivations were obvious to everyone.  
  
“I hurt,” he said simply. “So... If I make you hurt, you’ll understand. And you won’t leave, and things can go back to normal.”  
  
Back to normal..?  
  
“BACK TO NORMAL?!! YOU KILLED ME! YOU KILLED BENREY!!!”  
  
“And you left me alone!” Forzen shot back, as if he genuinely believed the two acts were equivalent.

There was practically an invisible buffering wheel over Chester’s head as he just- _stared_ at Forzen, too shocked to even be angry, before the pieces of what Forzen had said locked into place. “AND? That was terrible, but you RIPPED OFF MY ARM AND _STABBED_ ME, THOSE THINGS ARE NOT THE SAME!”

Forzen looked absolutely bewildered at this. “They’re not?? They both hurt!”  
  
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! I can’t remember my OWN SISTER’S _NAME_ BECAUSE OF YOU! Gordon had to drag our broken body out of a fucking TRASH COMPACTOR because of you! You’ve been practically TORTURING me since I got here! What is _wrong_ with you? ”  
  
The chatbot didn’t seem to be registering anything at this point. Just blinking at him with a confused expression. “You left me alone,” he repeated, sounding... genuinely hurt. “I missed you.”

“And I’m sorry for that! I didn’t _mean_ to leave you alone all that time! But that doesn’t mean it’s okay to MURDER Benrey! That doesn’t mean it’s okay to murder _ME!_ Fucking- stop. Just _stop._ ” Chester said, so tired and frustrated that he was beginning to cry. 

Forzen drew into himself, hunching his shoulders.

“I’m not doing anything wrong,” he muttered.  
  
...This wasn’t going anywhere. This was _never_ going to get anywhere. Benrey was dead, Tommy was- he didn’t know what had happened to Tommy, but the man was either dead or incapacitated, judging from the silence. Dr. Coomer was nowhere to be seen, and Bubby had _betrayed_ him, and Chester could barely move in this current state.  
  
The furnace of rage that had powered him just- shut off, and Chester allowed himself to go limp, staring at nothing with dull eyes. What was the point? What was the fucking _point?_ Nobody was around to help, and Forzen was impossible to reason with. There was no _hope,_ not with the situation as it stood.  
  
The next words he spoke were carved out of quiet, bitter defeat, and utter despair. “...I give up. Fine. Whatever. You win. I don’t care anymore. Do whatever you want.”

“... Wait. Seriously?” Forzen said, as if not even he had expected this.

Chester didn’t answer, simply allowing himself to dangle in Forzen’s grip like a puppet with cut strings. It wasn’t like it _mattered_ anymore.

And then Tommy shrieked like a demon escaping hell.

  
  


=0=

Tommy came to on the floor, head still ringing from the impact that had slammed him into it, and lay still for a moment, blinking the fog out from his eyes. He had been fighting that- soldier guy with Benrey, the one who had done- that. And then- 

Forzen had gotten a lucky swing in, and now he was on the floor. Right. Well, his friends needed him, and now was no time for a nap on the floor, so Tommy hauled himself up off the ground, gun in hand and-

Benrey was a mangled corpse on the floor, and the soldier was holding a limp and badly injured Mr. Free- _Mr. Mallory_ like a broken doll. 

“MISTER MALLORY!” Tommy screamed, seeing the man’s eyes glaze over. That was _it._ He wasn't going to let this person keep hurting his friends. Not when he could _stop_ them.

He felt the heat of a sun cast out, boiling his form as he gritted his teeth. Reality around him began to turn black in patches and tear like someone took cellophane and dug their fingers into it to rip it open. The air turned thin, but Tommy didn’t mind.

He didn’t need it.

He lifted his gun and let out a shot at Forzen, the lessening air and the growing expanse of space only making the bullet travel faster. Aiming straight for the soldier’s unguarded head.  
  
It hit its target easily, but it only seemed to make the other AI angrier.  
  
Chester was unceremoniously dropped in favor of lunging at Tommy, who dipped himself back into the square grate and into the water, leaving the tears in space open and letting them widen and worsen.

“I was talking!” Forzen screamed, shoving his arms into the water and thrashing about as he tried desperately to grab Tommy. However, he found nothing no matter how far down he reached. 

There was a sudden cacophony of noise, one grand, incomprehensible sound before the room was swarmed with Coomer clones. Forzen was too surprised to even stand up, remaining kneeling on the ground with his arms still in the water. 

Together, as one, the clones opened their mouths and proclaimed, “ **_HELLO, GORDON!_ **” 

All at once, they descended on the chatbot. Forzen didn’t even have time to react before they were on him, attacking from all sides. 

Tommy poked his head above the water upon hearing the cacophony, only to witness the battle between Forzen and the hoard of Coomer clones. The bot tore them all down one by one, only for more to take their place. 

Slowly, the numbers whittled down, Forzen continuing to fend the onslaught off tirelessly, until only one remained. 

“I hope you realize that with every clone you kill, I grow stronger.” A pause, for suitable dramatic timing. “And you just killed three hundred clones.”

“I’m not scared of you!” Forzen yelled. “You’re _nothing_ compared to me!” 

Coomer simply cackled like a madman.

He ripped off his sleeves, revealing some surprisingly muscular looking arms and got into a boxer’s fighting stance. “I’m afraid you miscalculated, my good bitch. Falcon PUNCH!”  
  
He lunged, soaring toward Forzen with more grace and agility than a man his age should have possessed , and delivered a single, powerful blow to the chest, and- Frozen was just… Gone? There wasn’t any blood or viscera or anything. The chatbot was just...not there.  
  
“I believe I have vaporized him, Doctor Mallory!” Coomer announced, turning back to Chester with a beaming smile. 

Chester stared at Dr. Coomer, and at Tommy. Tommy was okay, and Maybe- maybe there was hope.

Chester blinked. Then he started to nervously laugh. “That’s... Uh... Good... Good work, Doctor Coomer. You did- That’s great. You did great.”

“Sh-Should we lo-look for Benrey?” Tommy asked. “He’s pro-probably respawned b-by now.”

Chester looked back at the place where Benrey’s body had been. It was gone now, only the pool of blood remaining.

“Right...He...He respawns,” Chester said, mostly to himself. “He’s a player. He respawns.”

“He’s-He’s probably fi-fine,” Tommy repeated. “S-So, let’s go find him.”

“Yeah, okay.” 

Chester allowed Coomer to help him to his feet and the three of them left in search of their missing member.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this extra-long chapter of Something New! It was a lot of fun to write, even though the week we gave ourselves to write- well, we gave ourselves that hoping we would have time to get a nice backlog going on, and we just finished putting the finishing touches onto the bonus chapters on the first. Like, literally yesterday.
> 
> On the bright side, you all have recieved- 37 pages of Something New content with the bonus chapters. They all have unique scenes and content not in the original chapter, and writing them was a really fun study on how changing the perspective you write from can really change a story, so we hope you enjoy them. We hope this link works- https://archiveofourown.org/works/25656064/chapters/62284315
> 
> We hope you have as much fun reading as you did writing.
> 
> \- Tabby
> 
> Also! There's an epilogue oneshot focusing on Benrey that's been out for a few days! Please check it out! https://archiveofourown.org/works/25614781/chapters/62174668?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_329848423 
> 
> \- Lili


	23. We are all broken, Professor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Science Team is reunited with Bubby and everyone finally gets a moment to rest.

Chester knew why he felt tired. And thirsty. And hungry. He’d been running on empty since he’d had Gordon handle everything while he was doped up on painkillers.   
  
He shouldn’t have let him do that.  Still, he was glad he had. There was no way he would have managed to get as far as Gordon had. He’d barely been able to think, let alone move and get himself out of that trash compactor. 

He was just glad they were all back together again. Or, well, they were  _ almost  _ all back together again. 

“You-You’re  _ sure  _ he’s thi-this way?” Tommy asked.

“I’m quite certain!” Coomer replied. “He’s in a tube! He can’t go anywhere!”

“I still don’t see why we gotta get him back,” Benrey grumbled. “He betrayed us and shit. Got your hand cut off.”

He was helping support Chester along, but not really since he was still weak. Tommy was doing most of the work which meant Benrey was just sort of... snuggling Chester.  It honestly felt pretty okay, but Benrey was surprisingly heavy.

“Bubby messed up, but he’s our friend,” Chester said. “I’m... I’m not going to abandon him. Besides, it wasn’t his fault that Forzen...” He hesitated at the memory of the whole arm thing. “Did what he did.”

Benrey huffed. “You’re too nice for your own good, bro.”

Soon enough, they reached the room that Coomer was leading them too. And sure enough, there was Bubby in a tube. And on fire. 

“...Why is Bubby on fire?” Chester asked. 

“An excellent question!” Coomer chirped. 

Chester, Benrey, and Tommy all stared at him expectantly. 

“Do-Do you know the answer?” Tommy asked. 

“I do not!”

“You fuckers look like shit,” Bubby announced.

“Getting ambushed will do that to you.” Chester bit out before he could stop himself.

“Ambushed?” For a brief moment, Bubby looked shocked and concerned. But then his expression returned to looking like he’d sucked a lemon too hard. 

“For-Forzen attacked us,” Tommy supplied. “It...It didn’t go great.”

“I punched him into oblivion!” Coomer puffed out his chest a bit.

“Thanks for the tube time by the way.” Bubby snarked.

“Thanks for the missing arm!” Coomer chirped way too cheerily.  Chester gave him a bit of a look for that comment, but Coomer seemed to ignore him. 

“Bubby, I… I don’t even know what to say to you right now.” Chester  sighed. He was too tired to deal with this right now.

Bubby looked away like a scorned cat. “Oh, stop being a pussy about it.”  There was no malice in his words, however. He wasn’t  _ trying  _ to be mean. He just...didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t know  _ how  _ to be nice. 

The glass of the tube cracked suddenly, making both Chester and Bubby jump. Benrey had lodged his claws into the glass keeping Bubby safe from the incensed guard, honey and red floating into the air alongside a dreadful screeching.

“Ben-Benrey, he di-didn’t mean it,” Tommy said, trying to pry Benrey away from the tube.

“He’s bein’ an asshole!” Benrey yelled, fighting against Tommy’s grip. “He needs to pay!”

“Benrey, stop,” Chester pleaded. “No more fighting.”

Benrey stopped, looking between Chester and Bubby.

“Fine,” he grumbled, going limp in Tommy’s arms.

“I just...just need to rest.” Chester slowly lowered himself to the ground. “Lotta...Lotta stuff happened.”

“Wait!” Benrey yelled. “Memory check.”

Chester couldn’t help but laugh. "While my name is still Chester,  and I’m still trapped in my fucking video game, I no longer work at 7/11."

“Kay. Cool.” Benrey nodded.

Chester smiled and laid down on the floor. He was asleep barely a minute later. Benrey began wriggling again until Tommy put him down and he scampered over to curl himself protectively around Chester.

Coomer stood, unflinchingly staring at Bubby.   
  
“Why don’t you go sit with the others?” Bubby grumped. “Aren’t you pissed too?”   
  
“Why yes, I  _ am  _ very angry at you Professor,” Coomer replied in an uncharacteristically dark tone. “But you only did it because you are broken, correct? We all are, in some way. And I am certain that our dear Doctor Mallory, with a missing arm and holes in his mind, is very broken now too. He certainly seems broken up about it. What say you?”

“I’m not broken.” Bubby’s response was weak, unsure. It lacked all his usual confidence and self-assuredness. 

“ **_We are all broken, Professor._ ** ”

Bubby fell silent, sitting down and hugging his knees. He knew he couldn’t argue here. He knew Coomer was right. But he couldn’t admit it. So, he said nothing. 

None of them did.

=0=

Chester slept for a very long time. 4 hours to be exact. Tommy had been keeping count. He woke up to Coomer still standing motionless in front of Bubby’s tube while Bubby faced away and hugged his knees. Benrey was drooling while remaining wrapped around him. 

Tommy was...Actually, where _was_ Tommy?

“Where’s Tommy?” Chester mumbled, sitting up. Benrey whined and clung to Chester tighter, ending up being dragged up with Chester. 

“Tommy went looking for medical supplies for you and Booper,” Coomer answered brightly. “He should be back shortly!” 

Chester looked down to find his bloody stump had been bandaged finally. It had been done with a torn scrap of cloth, but at least it was something. Looked like Tommy had been busy while he was sleeping.  He dragged his hand down his face with a shuddering sigh. 

“Okay. Okay. I’m-I’m gonna be fine.” At least he probably wouldn’t die of blood loss now. 

“You sure?” Benrey asked. He was still holding tightly to Chester, like a little koala bear.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Chester assured him. “Don’t worry.”

“C’mon, man,” Benrey whined. “You can’t just tell me not to worry. I...I  _ gotta  _ worry. ‘Cause I care about you.” His face went a bit pink as he hid his face against Chester’s chest. 

Thankfully, the attention was drawn away from Benrey by Tommy’s return.

“I’m-I’m back!” Tommy announced, re-entering the room with arms full of med packs, medicine, and bandages. His smile widened when he saw Chester. “Oh-Oh! You’re awake!”

"Thanks for the help, Tommy. I really appreciate it." Chester smiled, reassured by Tommy’s presence. 

Benrey moved to separate from Chester, only to shudder as his model flickered and glitched.  Chester looked at him, concerned.

“...You’re still broken...” He’d thought dying had fixed it. 

“‘M fine,” Benrey tried to insist, only for his model to glitch out once more and send him crashing to the ground.

“Don’t bullshit me!” Chester said, his voice coming out a bit harsher than he’d intended as panic rose in his chest.

“Chill, dude,” Benrey mumbled, forcing himself off the ground. “‘S all good. ‘S fine.”

“It’s not.” Chester shook his head, biting at his lip. “I need to fix you. I need to fix all of you.”  He wasn’t sure how he’d type with only one hand but he had to do this. He was the only one who could. 

“Don-Don’t push yourself too-too hard,” Tommy said, putting a hand on Chester’s shoulder. “You-You’re still recovering too.” 

Chester shook his head. “I need to find a computer.” 

He stood up and wobbled a bit, still dizzy from blood loss.

“Did you hear Tommy, asshole?” Bubby snapped from his tube. “You’re still recovering!”

“Why do you care?” Chester yelled, feeling his emotions begin to bubble over again. “You wanted me dead, didn’t you?”

“And I feel really shitty about it!” Bubby said. “I didn’t want this to happen! I’m sorry!”

Everyone went quiet, their eyes widening. 

“Dude...” Benrey whispered, starting to giggle. 

“What...What was that?” Chester asked. 

“I’m...Sorry,” Bubby repeated, speaking slowly as though the words were literally painful. 

Chester stared at him, looking… almost proud.

"Coomer, can you get the tube op-"

The glass of the tube shattered, and Coomer smirked wickedly at the shock directed at him from all corners of the room. Chester shrugged off the surprise and wrapped Bubby in a hug that seemed to make the old man even more surprised.

Bubby squirmed. “What are you doing??”

"It's a hug, Bub. I realize that apologizing must have been hard for you and… while I'm still disappointed in you, I appreciate the apology."  He squeezed Bubby a little tighter, ignoring the pain flaring up in his arm as he did so. 

"Let me go before you end up hurting yourself, idiot."  Bubby pushed him away   
  
“Right, sorry.” He needed to find a computer.  He’d made them all wait long enough. 

“The-There’s a computer here,” Tommy said, pointing to a monitor in the corner of the room. “If tha-that’s what you’re looking for.”

“Thanks.” Chester offered a relieved smile before hobbling over to the computer and sitting down. Benrey trailed after him, pouting a little at the fact that Bubby had gotten a hug. 

“So, how’re you doin’ this?” He asked, flopping bonelessly over Chester’s back as the other man booted up the computer. 

“I guess... Like what I did for Coomer’s patch?” Chester said slowly.  He looked back at Benrey. “Do you have your commands back yet? Could you make this usable?” 

“Lemme check.” Benrey removed himself from Chester’s back, trying to pull up his console commands. 

Unfortunately, this resulted in him painfully glitching out once more and falling face-first onto the floor.  Chester rushed to catch him.   
  
What were his other options? What else could he use to make those patches? 

“Ugh. This sucks!” Benrey groaned as Chester caught him.

“You’re bo-both pushing yourselves too ha-hard,” Tommy sighed.

“I need to fix this,” Chester said, glancing back at Tommy. “I need to fix all of you.”

“Perhaps if Boppo can’t use console commands, you could, Doctor Mallory!” Coomer suggested. 

Chester stopped, blinking hard and slowly turning to face Coomer. “What?”   
  
“Offered to teach you earlier.” Benrey reminded him. 

Chester twitched, his impulse being to shake his head. “I… I dunno if that’s a good idea,” he croaked. “There is… a lot of stuff I could accidentally bump out of place. Plus, I-I don’t know if Benrey can teach me without an example, and-”

“Sounds to me like bitchchild excuses!” Bubby barked, and Chester stopped, his face turning bright red. “The fuck is stopping you, man?”

“The fact that I don’t want to mess you up even more!” 

“It’ll be fiiiine,” Benrey said, patting Chester’s face. “I’ll show you how to do it. It’ll be good.”   
  
Chester still looked hesitant. “Fine... But only because it doesn’t look like we have any other options.”

Benrey grinned. “Sick. Let’s get over to the computer and I’ll show you  _ everything  _ you can do.”


	24. I don't wanna be alone again, please!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chester learns to use console commands,  
> Benrey has a nightmare,  
> And Bubby gets fixed

It took a while before Chester was comfortable enough to attempt to use the console commands to access the computer. He was still terrified of messing up and hurting the AI’s even more. But Benrey and Tommy were patient and reassuring. Bubby didn’t say much, mostly because Coomer was still staring at him.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Chester said as he prepared to access the computer.   
  
“Come on, dude. You’re worrying too much,”  Benrey said. He’d draped himself over Chester’s back like a cat again. “You’re just messing with the computer. Not even touching anybody’s code yet.” 

“But  _ after  _ I get the computer working, I have to work on the code,” Chester insisted. 

“But you’re not there  _ yet _ .” Benrey grinned triumphantly. “Just...Take some deep breaths. Take it slow. It’ll be fine.” His voice softened as he rested his head against Chester’s. 

Chester could feel his cheeks getting warm and the memory of Benrey’s impromptu proposal resurfaced.   
  
“You’re like, crazy good at this stuff aren’t you? You can do this.”  Benrey smiled at him and Chester’s brain threatened to short circuit. 

“Yeah. Sure.” He squeaked, silently willing his heart to stop racing.  He needed to focus! He couldn’t be thinking about...    
  
A little bubble of color drifted from Chester’s mouth, accompanied by a hum of that rosy pink to the ivory a dove is.   
  
...He didn’t know what that one meant, but Benrey was staring with wide eyes. 

“What? Why are you staring?” He asked. 

“Ro-Rosy pink to ivory dove means you-you’ve fallen in love,” Tommy explained, trying very hard to hide his rapidly growing smile behind his hand.

“Bro...” Benrey whispered. 

“Ah, young love,” Coomer sighed. 

Nope. Nope, nope, nope, nope, he wasn't doing this right now.  “Hey! Let’s try those console commands!” Chester said loudly as he pulled up the menu. His face felt like it was on fire. 

The menu came up fairly easily after a few tries, just like he’d seen Benrey do several times before. A slightly transparent screen appeared at his fingertips.  His eagerness to get the attention off of himself meant his initial attempts at the console commands failed, but he did get the computer up and running after a little bit of fiddling. 

“Oh shit, nice.” Benrey grinned. “Knew you could do it.”

Chester relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief. The computer was running now. He could fix things. He could fix  _ them _ . 

“Okay. You first,” he said, looking back at Benrey.  Luckily he still had the USB he used to fix Coomer earlier.    
  
Chester plugged it into the computer and got to work.

In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t have started with Benrey. Due to Benrey being a human stuck in a game, his code was incredibly complex. It was like nothing Chester had ever seen before. If he hadn’t also been stuck in the game and fearing for his life, he would have wanted to study it.  It was almost like Benrey’s DNA had been directly translated into code. It didn’t look like any coding language Chester knew. 

But Chester didn’t have time to marvel, he needed to focus on fixing Benrey’s glitches and ease his pain.

They ended up having to spend the night in that room. Bubby complained, of course, but Bubby always complained so that wasn’t anything new.  By the time he had finished, Chester was barely able to keep his eyes open. He hoped against hope that he hadn’t messed anything up. If he caused Benrey any more pain he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. 

Benrey had fallen asleep slumped against Chester. He’d tried to stay awake to keep teasing Chester, but eventually he’d grown too tired and had succumbed to sleep.  Chester smiled fondly. He looked so peaceful... He brushed Benrey’s hair off his neck to see if he had the same USB port the rest of them seemed to have.  The USB port was there, the metal gleaming in the dim light of the room. 

It looked...  _ newer  _ than the others.  Strange...    
  
He should... probably let Benrey sleep, they all needed rest. He’d apply the patch when he woke up.

He kept running his fingers through Benrey’s hair. Benrey had taken his helmet off to bother Chester and hadn’t put it back on. His hair was longer than Chester had expected, coming down about to Benrey’s chin, and the same black as the Barney model’s hair. 

It was... soft. Probably the softest thing in this whole place. The only things Chester had been able to touch for the past few days (Had it been over a week now? It was so hard to tell...) were hard cold metal, so this was a nice change.

It was then that Chester noticed that there was a strange noise coming from somewhere he couldn’t quite place. It sounded almost like a motor. He looked around, craning his neck in an attempt to see if he could locate the sound. As he shifted, Benrey was shifted as well, falling onto Chester’s chest.    
  
Chester felt a soft vibration. Was... Was that Benrey? Chester blinked in surprise, looking down at the sleeping figure leaning against him.   
  
He supposed... given all the strange modifications Benrey had made to his body in boredom, being able to purr wasn’t the  _ strangest _ possible thing. 

Benrey smiled in his sleep, snuggling closer.  Chester felt his own eyes starting to slip closed.  There was something so... comforting about Benrey’s purr , about being next to him like this.  Benrey was a warm reassuring weight, like a weighted blanket.  When was the last time he’d held someone like this? 

It felt good.

Slowly, his eyes fluttered closed, and he was asleep.

=0=

_ He was alone. Where was everyone?  _

_ They’d just been there. Why weren’t they there now? _

_“Chester?” He called. His own voice ringing back at him_ _was the only answer the void gave._ _The blackness was cold, unforgiving,_ ** _silent_** _._

_ No. No, he couldn’t do this. Not again.  _

_ “Chester!” He screamed.  _

_ No one answered.  _

_ He kept screaming until his voice was hoarse.  _

_ No one came.  _

_ He was by himself.  _

**_Again_ ** _.  _

_ He started to cry, covering his face with his hands and pulling desperately at his hair. He couldn’t be alone again. _

_ The silence pressed in around him, heavy and oppressive, threatening to suffocate him. _

_ “Please,” he begged. “I don’t wanna be alone again,  _ **_please_ ** _!”  _

_ He squeezed his eyes shut, curling in on himself.  _ _ He couldn’t go through this again.  _

_ “My name is Benrey,” he whispered to himself, just to hear  _ **_something_ ** _. “I...I like Playstation. Heavenly Sword is my favorite video game. My favorite soda is root beer.” His shoulders shook as he fought back tears. “I’m in love with a dumb programmer who used to work at 7/11. I’m...I’m  _ **_not_ ** _ alone. I’m  _ **_not_ ** _.” _

_ As he said that, he heard a faint voice.  _

_ Someone was calling out to him. _

**_Chester_ ** _ was calling out to him. _

_ He wasn’t alone. _

_. _

“Benrey! Come on!” Chester continued to frantically shake the other man. He’d been woken up by Benrey screaming, his body glitching out and knocking them both off of the chair. When Benrey’s eyes finally cracked open Chester pulled him into a desperate hug. Thank god he was awake...

“What...’re you...you cryin’?” Benrey mumbled. “That’s...that’s real lame.” Even as he said this, he clung to Chester.

“Shut up, I was worried about you.” Chester held him tighter , a few bubbles slipping from his lips, blues going from greyish rain to turquoise saltwater, a color he thinks tears would look like. “Your patch is done, we should... probably install it now before this happens again.” 

“Yeah. Sounds… Sounds good.” Benrey nodded.

Chester got him into the chair, plugging the USB into the port in the back of Benrey’s head. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen. Hell, he was _scared_ of what was going to happen.

Thankfully, Benrey didn’t start screaming or anything. His eyes just... glazed over. He didn’t tumble out of the chair or go limp, he just... sat there holding his breath.

It took a few minutes to finish, and once it did Benrey blinked awake.    
  
“Whuh? Huh?”

“How do you feel?” Chester asked nervously.

“Mm...” Benrey got up and stretched. “Pretty good.”    
  
“Maybe... Try to pull up the console. See if it worked.” Chester suggested. 

Benrey nodded and did just that,  bracing himself. It came up without issue. No glitches, no pain.  He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank fuck. And you. Thank fuck-you- wait, shit-"

Benery was interrupted by Chester's laughter. "I'm glad you're alright. Who do you think I should do next?"

Benery hummed before pointing to Bubby, who  was still fast asleep, like all the others. 

Chester sighed lightly, cracked his knuckles against his suit, and got to coding.  After the nightmare that had been figuring out Benrey’s code, this would be a walk in the park. He just had to tweak a few variables...

=0=

Bubby was awoken by someone rapping on the glass of his tube that had respawned while they were busy.  He knew that he should have crawled out before he went to sleep.  He started awake, slamming his head into the glass in the process. 

“What the fuck?!” He demanded. 

“Your patch’s done, dickweed,” Benrey announced.    
  
Chester stood behind him with a triumphant smile, holding up a USB stick.

Bubby eyed the USB warily. “You’re  _ sure  _ it’ll work?”

“Reasonably,” Chester replied.

Bubby made a sound of acknowledgment, tapping his fingers on his arm.

“Look, do you want it or not?” Benrey asked, folding his arms. 

“Of course!” Bubby snapped. “I just...” He trailed off, chewing at his lip. “Why are you still trying to help me?”

“Because you’re our friend,” Chester said. His triumphant smile transitioned to something softer, making the guilt that was already gnawing at Bubby’s heart swell even larger. 

“You’re too nice for your own good,” he muttered. “Fine. Let me out of the damn tube again and let’s do this.”

The way Chester brightened made Bubby’s chest hurt.

“Stand back,” Benrey said.

Before either Bubby or Chester could ask what he meant, Benrey had headbutted the glass of the tube as hard as he was physically able.  There was a loud  _ thonk _ . And absolutely nothing happened.  It was a good thing Benrey had put his helmet back on, as that likely would have given him a concussion otherwise. Actually, it still might have.   
  
“...Why on earth did you think that would work?!” Chester asked, absolutely perplexed and incredibly concerned. 

“I’unno,” Benrey mumbled, stumbling back. "Worked with Coomster earlier."

Bubby looked pointedly at Chester as if to say, “ _ this _ is what you’re into?”   
  
Chester sighed and pressed the large button on the control panel behind them.  The tube was lifted by robotic arms and Bubby stepped out. He was still, somehow, on fire. 

“Alright, stick it in,” Bubby said, sitting down on the floor. 

Benrey and Chester both stifled snorts.

“Are you going to do it or not?” Bubby demanded, shooting a glare back toward them. “Stick it in!”

Benrey started absolutely cackling, falling to the ground.

“Just... Just give me a second,” Chester said in between outbursts of laughter. He was laughing so hard he was finding it difficult to slot the USB into the port. He was 27 years old, why was this so funny?   
  
He finally managed to get it in, the flames instantly flickering out as Bubby went stiff.

“Well, you, uh, you got it in.” Benrey managed to push himself back up, still giggling. “You did it.”

“Stop it.” Chester gently shoved Benrey.    
  
The two of them continued to joke with each other like they’d known each other for years until Bubby blinked awake. 

“How are you feeling?” Chester asked. 

“Less awful,” Bubby replied.    
  
“That’s good!” Chester smiled. At least he hadn’t made Bubby worse.

“So...you’re just always feeling shitty?” Benrey tilted his head to the side. “That’s sucks.”

“I’m old, what do you expect?” Bubby rolled his eyes.

Suddenly, the inhabitants of the room felt the sense of something awful looming behind them. However, when they turned to look it was just Doctor Coomer, with a strangely hollow look in his eyes.

" _ Kill. _ "

"Guess who's going next!" Chester chirped far too cheerfully in response.

“Whooo!” Benrey pumped his arms in the air. 

“Huh? Wha-What’s going on?” Tommy sat up from where he’d been sleeping.

“We fixed Bubby!” Benrey said with a huge grin. 

“ _ I _ fixed Bubby,” Chester corrected him.   
  
“ _ We _ fixed him.” Benrey insisted, leaning against Chester.   
  
Chester couldn’t help but smile. 

“You two are gross,” Bubby groaned. “Get to fixing Harold so we can goooo.”

Chester rolled his eyes, retrieving his USB and returning to the computer to make another patch. 

Tommy laid back down, closing his eyes. Although no one noticed, his form glitched a tad, and a chair appeared lodged in the ceiling.


	25. Yeah, let’s run like hell!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glitches? In my experimental VR experience? It's more likely than you think!

Once Coomer’s patch was finished, and they determined all of them were good to travel again, the group continued on their way. Soon they found themselves outside, on their way to the lambda lab.

The last time they’d been outside had been... the rocket.

“Oh man, it is so good to see the sun again,” Chester sighed. “Even if it is just, you know, fake.” They were getting pretty close to the end of the game... They’d see the real sun again soon.

As they exited the facility, Tommy stumbled a bit, being caught by Coomer.

“Ah, so-sorry,” Tommy said, straightening up.

“You good, dude?” Benrey glanced back at him. Chester glanced back as well.

“I’m fi-fi-fine. Just tripped on a ro-ro-rock,” Tommy assured them, hoping they wouldn’t notice the way his speech had skipped. He already had a bit of a stutter, so it would be fine, right?

He internally breathed a sigh of relief as they all turned away from him, looking to see what had appeared this time. There was a cactus sticking out of the floor near where he’d tripped. Okay...That wasn’t too bad. Almost immediately, Coomer began to rattle off the Wikipedia article for cacti, to the chagrin of the rest of the team.

He quickly hurried after the others, falling into step with them as they traversed the outside of the facility. It would be fine, he told himself. His glitches weren’t that bad. He could get fixed once all of this was over. Everyone had other things to worry about. He had to make sure they were all safe first.

“What’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you get out?” Benrey asked, practically hanging off Chester.

“That’s a big question,” Chester laughed. “Uh....”

“It would probably be best for you to go to the hospital!” Coomer said brightly.

“Yeah, that’s true,” Chester agreed, sighing heavily.

Tommy tuned out their conversation, for the most part, focusing on trying to suppress the glitches. It was like trying to keep himself from sneezing. Every so often he’d slip and a chair or a gun would appear from the ground or the rock face beside him. He’d never been so glad for how dense his friends were, as none of them noticed.

They fought back wave after wave of soldiers as they continued. Business as usual. Something seemed up with Benrey, though. He kept stopping and looking behind him like someone had called him.

“Something wrong?” Chester asked.

“I dunno,” Benrey replied with a frown. “Got this...weird feeling in the back of my head.”

“You mean... Your USB port or...?”

“No no, like... the back of my mind.” Benrey began to fidget. “Like... fuck, I don’t know...”

“Like... Me and Gordon?” Chester suggested.

“I dunno, maybe? I don’t know what’s going on in your head.” Benrey groaned and shook his head. “Man, this sucks.”

“It’ll probably go away when you get out,” Bubby said, shrugging.

Benrey still looked bothered but didn't say anything else.

They were halfway across the strange cliff edge when, suddenly, a cacophonous roar filled the air after Tommy felt himself slip again on accident. A strange...amalgamation of helicopters had appeared in the air not too far from where they were creeping along. The shapes were barely more than a silhouette at this point. The sound was deafening, and he felt his ears ring violently in protest.

“MISTER FREEMAN, WE SHOULD GO!” Tommy barked over the sound of screeching metal scraping over itself and the wind and hum of the helicopter operating, trying to push Chester and Benrey towards a cave in the cliff.

He could tell that this was his fault.

They rushed away from the noise as quickly as they could, but the horrible droning sound continued to be heard for the next mile of walking. If it even was. Coomer never gave a straight answer in regards to the distance.

“Only fifty more hours until we arrive at the Lambda Lab, gentlemen!”

“I thought I fixed that,” Chester grumbled.

“You thought wrong, my good bitch!”

Chester burst into laughter. “Well... If it’s not bothering you maybe we should keep it.” He mused. “Adds to your charm.”

“Why thank you, Doctor! I rather like myself as I am!” Coomer beamed. Tommy couldn’t help but smile, until he slipped again.

“Look out!” Bubby yowled and Tommy looked up to see a shadow coast over them.

This helicopter worked. Had he spawned this one too?

“Hey, Gordon!” Benrey frowned and looked around. That voice hadn’t sounded like any of the science team and yet... It was familiar?

“What’s wrong?” Chester yelled to him. The others were still focused on the helicopter that was attempting to get next to them.

“Thought...Thought I heard someone saying hey to Gordon,” Benrey said.

“That’s weird.” Chester looked around as well, searching for any NPCs that could be greeting Gordon.

Only to notice the Barney standing further down the path.

Chester stopped, blinking hard. How had a Barney NPC ended up all the way out here?

“Hey, Gordon!” The Barney NPC repeated, waving to him.

“Do you know him?” Bubby asked, looking pointedly at Chester.

“It’s Barney!” Gordon’s excitement overwhelmed Chester and suddenly he was in the backseat as Gordon took control, running toward said NPC.

Gordon could hardly process his emotions. He was just so relieved to see a familiar face. Sure, his backstory may have been made up, but his feelings toward Barney weren’t. He stopped in front of the guard, beaming at his old friend and expecting some sort of greeting or joke.

But... The NPC didn’t react. He just kept standing there, smiling mildly into the middle-distance.

“Barney?” Gordon asked quietly, feeling his heart beginning to sink.

“Geez, I thought I had a long night, you look like hell,” the guard said, not quite looking at Gordon.

“We do all look quite awful, Gordon!” Coomer piped up.

“Barney, it’s me,” Gordon said, his voice breaking. “Don’t you recognize me?”

“Alright, why not, didn’t wanna die alone anyway,” the guard said, continuing to not quite see the person in front of him.

“That’s... Gordon he’s just an NPC,” Chester said softly. “He says that when he agrees to follow the player. He can’t hear you.”

Gordon stared at the blank, smiling face of the man he considered his best friend, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. The other members of the science team remained quiet, knowing better than to interrupt this moment.

Gordon took a few shaking breaths, trying to will the tears to go away. He’d known he was just a video game character for a while now, but having to really face it now... None of it was real. No one he loved was real.

“You good, dude?” Benrey asked quietly, putting a hand on Gordon’s shoulder.

“It’s okay if you need a minute,” Chester assured him.

Gordon said nothing, continuing to stare at Barney’s pleasantly smiling face.

Behind him, Tommy stumbled as his body imperceptibly glitched once more. The helicopter dropped like a stone. Directly towards the spot where Barney was standing. Gordon lunged to push him out of the way, just barely escaping the explosion.

“Fine shooting, Gordon!” Coomer said from the other side of the helicopter wreckage.

“You almost fucking died!” Bubby squawked.

“Gordon! He’s an NPC there’s hundreds of him!” Chester was trying very hard not to yell because he knew Gordon was going through some stuff, but they had almost died and he was not okay with that.

“He’s Barney,” Gordon whispered.

The Barney under Gordon said nothing, still staring straight ahead, not truly seeing anything. It wasn’t the Barney he knew, but it was still Barney. It was still his friend.

Benrey clipped through the helicopter wreckage to stand beside him.

“We’ll drop him off somewhere safe, okay?” He put a hand on Gordon’s shoulder.

Gordon hesitated before slowly nodding. “Okay.”

He took Barney by the hand, helping him to his feet.

“Yeah let’s run like hell!” The NPC remarked with a grin. It almost felt like old times.

This was the closest he’d ever been able to get to one of the Barnies. He’d never been able to touch one while he was being controlled.

Aside from...

=0=

_Gordon did his best to shut out everything he felt. To ignore the feeling of the blood on his hands, dripping from his crowbar, how much his legs ached from walking so far._   
_And most of all... The screaming. The player who was controlling him was rather trigger-happy, firing on every NPC they saw. Their pre-recorded death gurgles would be burned into Gordon’s mind for runs to come._

_He just wanted to get to the end of the run already. He wanted this to be over. He knew his “coworkers” weren’t real, but it still felt just… awful to be killing them like this, gunning them down mercilessly. They were- all they were doing was trying to protect him from the military and his player was killing them._

_He just wanted this to be over._

_He was so tired. He’d just tuned everything out at this point. Until... That one hallway._

_A Barney stood at the end, with that same friendly smile from his memories, that same voice, and he watched helplessly, as his arm raised, revolver in hand._

_He wanted to scream, wanted to beg the player to stop. But he couldn’t. He had to watch as the gun jerked and the Barney fell back, blood seeping from a hole in his chest. The NPC collapsed into a heap on the floor, and Gordon wished he could react at all. Scream, cry, SOMETHING besides stare blankly as if nothing had happened while his heart seized in his chest._

_He remembered all the little flirty remarks Barney had made to him over the years. He clung onto every little laugh and smile like a lifeline._

_He knew none of it had ever really happened, but it was the only thing keeping him going sometimes._

_Barney had loved him._

_And at that moment Gordon realized... he loved Barney back._

_Seeing the man he considered his best friend dying on the floor in front of him, bleeding out by his own hand, made him realize just how much Barney meant to him. How much he wished he could simply hold him in his arms again... He tried to apologize, tried to force his lips to form the words._

_But he couldn’t. As usual, no words passed his lips as he was forced to keep moving. He never stopped thinking about Barney, though. He couldn’t._

=0=

As promised, they dropped the Barney off in a safe area before they continued. Gordon remained in control the whole time, holding the Barney’s hand.

Benrey couldn’t help but feel bad as he followed quietly behind Gordon. He knew how awful it was to so desperately want some sort of acknowledgment, only to be greeted with that blank stare and the same voice lines over and over.

The thing with the Barney had briefly distracted him from the weird presence in his head, but now that everything was quiet he was having a hard time ignoring it. The longer he looked at the NPC the more it seemed to stir. It didn’t freak him out, mostly because his life was already so fucking weird, but it was getting annoying. It was like hearing music that was just barely audible. He could almost hear a voice saying something, but couldn’t make out any words. It was driving him crazy.

It had started as barely a whisper after Chester fixed up his code, but it just kept getting louder and louder. Not loud enough for him to understand what it was saying, of course, but louder nonetheless. It was starting to give him a nasty headache.

“Are yo-you okay, Benrey?” Tommy asked quietly, putting a hand on Benrey’s shoulder.

“Just gettin’ kinda a headache,” Benrey mumbled, pushing his helmet up to rub at his temples. “Weird...voice in my head.”

“A weird vo-voice?” Tommy frowned.

“I dunno, man,” Benrey said. “Just...I dunno...”

This only made Tommy’s frown deepen, but he decided not to bring up for the moment.

Benrey looked over towards the NPC again. It looked like Gordon was still trying to say goodbye. Eventually, the guy just hugged the NPC, who spouted a random line as if prompted.

Gordon didn’t let go as he spoke.

“I... I know you aren’t really in there, and you can’t hear me but... I’ve missed you a lot. More than anything else.” Gordon paused, taking a deep breath, his voice wavering as he started again, as if he was holding back tears. “And... I’m sorry, for all the times I’ve had to hurt you, I know they weren’t really you but, they all had your face, your voice. It hurt me... so much, every single time, it was the one thing I never really grew numb to.”

The presence in the back of Benrey’s head shifted again.

_“...Gordon?”_

Benrey turned around to look at the others “Did one of you guys say something?” He whispered.

“And interrupt this?” Bubby asked, looking distinctly offended.

“The only who’s said anything besides Gordon was you!” Coomer replied.

It was probably just... A bug or something. Maybe Chester hadn’t fixed him all the way, that was it.

Luckily Gordon didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m sorry, Barney,” he said, hugging the NPC tightly. “I’m so sorry.”

The group stood there for a long time, letting Gordon cling to the thing that looked like his best friend.

“Doc-Doctor Freeman, we need to go,” Tommy finally said.

“I know,” Gordon replied. His voice was small.

Even as they walked away, Gordon kept glancing back at the motionless figure of the Barney NPC.


	26. Why are you guys like this?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team makes it to the Powerade Canals. Also Tommy Support Hours!

Harold Coomer could tell well enough that many things were wrong. Doctors Mallory and Freeman had been quiet and despondent since the encounter with the guard, Benrey seemed to be experiencing hallucinations, and Tommy had clearly been attempting to hide… little hiccups. Stutters that weren't quite right, glitches disguised as trips, random objects appearing in midair.

Coomer worried greatly.

“Why’ve you been so quiet?” Bubby asked, keeping pace beside him. 

“I am concerned about the state of our team,” Coomer admitted. 

Bubby looked at the other members of the team. Gordon still moping, Benrey continually looking around for something none of them could hear or see, Tommy on edge and jittery. 

“Yeah, they seem fucked up,” he concluded. 

Coomer sighed, resting his head on Bubby’s shoulder. It seemed every time a problem was fixed, three more appeared in its place.

“It’ll...It’ll be fine,” Bubby lowered his voice, squeezing Coomer’s hand in an attempt at comfort. “Everything’s turned out alright so far. So....It’s gonna be okay.”

Coomer squeezed Bubby’s hand back, allowing himself a small smile. “My, I’m rather lucky to have you, aren’t I, professor?”

“Doctor,” Bubby corrected him with a half-hearted growl

“Hey! Check this out!” Benrey yelled.

The two older scientists looked back to see Benrey pointing to something with an absolutely ecstatic expression on his face. 

“What is it?” Dr. Mallory asked. It seemed he’d taken over control once more, likely to allow Gordon a break to deal with his feelings.

“It’s fuckin’ Powerade canals, dude!” Benrey said, pointing excitedly. 

The group stood above a series of canals and pipes filled with a liquid too unnaturally blue to be water. 

"Powerade? Really?" Dr. Mallory gave him an amused yet incredulous look.

“Well, it _looks_ like Powerade!” Benrey kept gesturing.

“It ki-kinda does,” Tommy agreed, peering past Benrey.

“It can’t.” Dr. Mallory rolled his eyes with a fond smile, walking over to stand beside Benrey. His smile quickly faded as his eyes widened. “Holy shit it does.”

“Let me see!” Bubby hurried over, dragging Coomer with him. 

Sure enough, the water flowing through the canals did indeed strongly resemble Powerade. There was even a sweet scent in the air that resembled the sports drink.

Benrey vaulted himself over the edge and into the electric blue liquid. 

“Benrey! What are you doing?!” Dr. Mallory shrieked as Benrey dove in. 

“Gotta taste it!” Benrey yelled back. 

“No! No, you _don’t_ gotta taste it!” Dr. Mallory was halfway over the edge now, trying to lower himself down with one hand. 

“I gotta, bro. Them’s the rules.”

“Doctor Mallory, I’m thirsty!” Coomer announced before promptly throwing himself into the strange liquid as well, a cymbal crash echoing up the canal from where he’d landed. Bubby was dragged, shrieking, down with him.

Tommy attempted to stifle a laugh only to burst into a fit of giggles. 

“Why are you guys like this?” Dr. Mallory groaned, lowering himself down the rest of the way.  
  
It was sticky, definitely not water. Benrey knelt and scooped some up in his hands to take a sip. It... _did_ taste kind of like Powerade.

Coomer meanwhile was crouched down in the liquid sipping furiously. He didn’t really need to drink, but he thought that perhaps this silliness would lighten the mood. Dr. Mallory needed a good laugh. Bubby stood beside him, arms folded.

“You better not get sick from this,” Dr. Mallory sighed, shaking his head.

“I thi-think they’ll be fine,” Tommy assured him. 

“Doctor Mallory, I’m full!” Coomer announced. 

“You should try some of this, bro,” Benrey said, tugging on Dr. Mallory’s sleeve. He looked hopeful at seeing Dr. Mallory holding back laughter.

“I’m not drinking a mystery liquid, Benrey,” Dr. Mallory said, attempting to both push Benrey away and keep himself from laughing.

“C’mon. Just a little sippy sip.” Benrey’s smile widened. 

“Benrey, we don’t even know what it is!” Dr. Mallory had given in and was just starting to laugh uncontrollably. 

“Doctor, I thought you were a Nasty Little Sewage Boy!” Coomer cried.

Doctor Mallory gave him a deadpan expression.

Bubby rolled his eyes at the lot of them.

“You’re both gross,” he grumbled. 

“But isn’t young love beautiful, professor?” Coomer asked, getting to his feet and taking Bubby’s hand in his. 

Bubby’s face went a bit red. “It’s doctor,” he said, looking sharply away. 

Coomer’s smile widened. “Of course!”  
  
Benrey splashed some of the blue liquid in Dr. Mallory’s face.

“Hey!” Dr. Mallory sputtered, laughing. He didn’t hesitate to splash Benrey back. 

“Doctor,” Coomer complained. “I’m wet and sticky.”  
  
“Don’t… please don’t phrase it like that.”  
  
“I am hot and wet and sticky, Doctor, and this must be remedied!”  
  
Dr. Mallory sighed deeply. “I’m begging you, don’t say it that way.”

“As you wish, Doctor. I am simply informing you of my- Doctor, I’m hungry.”  
  
“We should keep moving then, there probably won’t be another vending machine for a while...” Dr. Mallory said, looking past the group down the aqueducts. 

Before Dr. Mallory could finish, Coomer had launched into a run, forcing the rest of the team to struggle to catch up.

=0=

Chester... Wasn’t having a great time. They were in the middle of being ambushed by a group of soldiers, again, and he couldn’t do _anything_. Due to his lack of an arm, he wasn’t exactly in any shape to fight, which meant the others were stuck with protecting him. He felt like dead weight watching the others fight. 

Coomer could literally punch soldiers into the distance like a baseball player hitting a homerun, Bubby could set soldiers on fire, Tommy was a crack shot, and Benrey was... Benrey was his own thing. 

“M-Mr. Mallory, look out!” 

Chester shrieked and stumbled back as a soldier lunged for him with a combat knife. He ended up falling on his ass and scooting back in some approximation of a crabwalk as Benrey tore the soldier’s head off. 

“You good, dude?” He asked, looking down at Chester. 

“Fine work, Doctor Pussy!” Coomer chirped. 

“Y-Yeah...” Chester said, unable to tear his eyes away from the decapitated soldier. He should have gotten used to this by now, he’d been here for over a week. He knew they weren't real. 

But at the same time…

It was too real. It got to him every time and his heart ached to see them die, even if they were trying to kill him with telegraphed patterns.

He had to keep telling himself none of it is real. The body faded and disappeared, despawning. 

“I think that’s all of them!” Bubby yelled back to the group. 

“Hell yeah!” Benrey pumped his fist in the air, shrinking to return to his normal size. 

“Cool. Awesome,” Chester said weakly, his voice squeaking a tad. God, he sounded just like he had before he’d started T. 

“I punched the top off a tank!” Coomer proclaimed proudly.

Despite himself, Chester let out a laugh. “I wish I saw that!”

“You can!” Coomer pointed at the smoking remnants of the tank, which was missing a roof. 

“I set it on fire afterward,” Bubby proclaimed, hands on his hips. 

“Oh sick, fire.” Benrey trailed over to stare at the fire in awe.

“He-Hey, do you guys have any extra ammo?” Tommy asked, popping out the cartridge on his gun as he walked. “I’m ru-running low.”

He was halfway back to the group when he felt it coming on. Another glitch. He couldn’t hide it. All the attention was on him. 

“Tommy? Are you alright?” Chester asked as Tommy stopped. 

Tommy stood stock still, gun in one hand and ammo cartridge in the other. Then he dropped, his whole body beginning to glitch out. Tanks began spawning everywhere around them.

“What the fuck?!” Benrey yelled, making himself big in an attempt to shield his friends.  
  
While the others took care of the tanks, Chester locked eyes with Tommy. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Tommy’s stricken expression.  
  
So... Tommy was broken too. 

“Tommy, how long has this been going on?” Chester asked once the glitching had stopped and Tommy was still. 

“It’s no-not a big deal,” Tommy tried to insist. He attempted to push himself off the ground, only for his arms to give out.

“Dude, you just spawned a fuck ton of **_tanks_** ,” Benrey said. “That’s a pretty big deal I think.”

Tommy said nothing in response. He turned his gaze away shamefully, face turning beet red.

“You should’ve said something when we were in the computer room!” Bubby snapped as he helped Tommy up. “Not Gordon could have fixed you!”

“I didn’t-didn’t want to bother you guys,” Tommy mumbled, avoiding eye contact with everyone. “You guy-guys have enough to-to worry about. I didn’t...didn’t want to be a bur-burden.”

“Tommy...” Chester’s expression softened. “You’re not a burden. You’ve never been a burden. I mean, if anything _I’m_ a burden.” He laughed weakly. 

“What? N-No!” Tommy looked abruptly. “You-You’re not a burden! You-You’re the leader!”

“Doctor Mallory _is_ dead weight at the moment,” Coomer agreed. 

“He’s-He’s the leader!” Tommy repeated, his voice beginning to rise in a frantic panic. “He’s the-the leader and-and I need to be-be helpful and useful or-or else I’ll get le-left behind or-or-or-!” He covered his face and began to cry. “I’m so-sorry, Mr. Mallory!”

“Whoa, hey, no cry,” Benrey said, putting his hands up. “No cry. ‘Sall good.”

Chester felt his own anxiety begin to spike. How long had Tommy been feeling this way? _How long had he been hiding this pain? This was his fault. He’d done this. He’d hurt Tommy, just like he hurt everyone around him. He messed everything up-_

No!

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t just spiral into self-pity like this. He tightened his lower lip into a firm expression as he walked over to the panicking AI.

“Tommy.” Chester's voice was quiet as he put his good (only) hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “You’re not a burden. You’ve never been a burden. We’re not going to abandon you. We’ll find another computer, and I’ll fix you. It’s okay to ask us for help.”

“But-” Tommy tried to begin to protest yet again.

“But nothing,” Chester cut him off. “I know I messed up before with Darnold and Forzen. I’m not going to do that again. I’m not leaving anyone else behind.”

“The idea that you’re only our friend if you’re useful is bullshit,” Bubby grumbled. “You’re our _friend_. We’re not going to abandon you just because you’re glitching.”

“No man left behind!” Coomer chirped. “Except if you die!”

“But, like, you’ll respawn if you die, so still...” Benrey added. “We’re, uh, we’re not gonna dump you just ‘cause your code’s fucked up.”

“Yeah,” Chester agreed with a smile. “Now let’s go find a computer and get your code back in order, okay?”

Tommy blinked, then smiled back. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A backstory fic about Branden (Benrey before he lost his memories) has been written here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26872807


	27. Chug! Chug! Chug!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team reaches Darnold's lab and finds a surprise he left behind

It didn’t take too long for them to find what appeared to be an abandoned lab.  Beakers and chemicals were scattered all over the place,  broken glass scattered near acid burns in the floor , and a large dent quite high up on the wall, like someone very tall had punched it. One beaker sat in the middle of a table, with a note attached. 

Chester picked up the note to read it as Tommy went for the full beaker itself.

“It’s from Darnold,” Chester told the team in surprise after skimming the note.  Everyone looked at him with an equal amount of surprise. 

“Well, what does it say?” Bubby demanded. 

“Is it an-an apology?” Tommy asked hopefully. 

Chester held up the letter, beginning to read. 

“Hello, Chester and friends. I’m...I know this isn't going to fix any of what I’ve done, but I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just...I just wanted to be accepted. But like I said, I know it’s not going to fix any of what I’ve done. I messed up and I need to try and fix my mistakes. So...I left this for you. It’s a potion of my own creation. I hope it might be able to help you. It’s the least I can do. After all, I’m the one who pulled Forzen in here.

....I know it’s naive but... I hope no one else has to get hurt.

Best of luck,

Darnold.”

As Chester’s voice died, the group stood silent, staring at one another. 

“I-I  _ knew  _ he wasn’t all bad,” Tommy finally said, a look of relief on his face. 

“How do we know it’s not a trap?” Bubby asked,  taking the note and reading it for himself. “Yeesh, he has horrible handwriting.”    
  
He flipped over the note. “P.S, sorry about your arm?”

“May-maybe it’s something to-to-to-to help!” Tommy chirped hopefully, glitching out and spawning in an empty beaker that broke on the floor.

“Maybe...” Chester eyed the beaker warily.

“Only one way to find out, Doctor Pussy!” Coomer smirked, reaching for the beaker.   
  
“No, don’t, you could spill it and it could explode or something!” Chester tried to reach out and take it, but Coomer was surprisingly fast.   


“Doctor, I can see All of the Chemicals inside it!” Coomer proclaimed, to Chester’s confusion.

“... Really?”  He wouldn’t have been surprised if Coomer somehow  _ could _ , but he sincerely doubted the validity of that statement.   
  
“Fuck no, now let me mess with it!”  Coomer’s ever-present smile widened, becoming almost manic. There was a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. 

Chester looked back at the others for some form of assistance. Bubby just leaned against the desk with his arms crossed while Benrey stared at the beaker in Coomer’s hand quizzically. Tommy was checking out the rest of the lab.

“M-Mister Freeman, look! A computer!” Tommy pointed  to a computer in the back of the room.   
  
“Have we found the computer room?” Bubby asked pointedly. 

Chester couldn’t help but wheeze out a laugh at that. “Y-you guys are just using my internet for memes!”

“There’s a better way to use it?” Bubby huffed, raising an eyebrow.

“Nah, the Internet’s totally for memes,” Benrey cackled.

“That meme’s funeral was years ago! It’s turned into a skeleton!”  Chester was unable to keep himself from laughing, leaning on the desk for support.

“Then call me Doctor Fuckin’ Frankenstein.” Bubby declared. 

Coomer’s grin only grew at this.

“Professor.”

“Doctor.”

“Professor!”

“ **_Doctor!_ ** ”

“You should prolly just start workin’ on fixing Tommy now,” Benrey suggested, looking over at Chester. “They’re gonna keep at this for a while.”   
  
“Right,” Chester said, pulling up the console menu to get the laptop working. “We’ll worry about that... potion... later.”

“If you’re not gonna drink it, can I drink it?” Benrey asked, still eyeing the beaker. 

“Wha-?! NO! You don’t even know what it  _ does _ !” Chester sputtered, nearly closing the console menu on accident.

“Gotta...gotta test it for poison, bro.”

“I don-don’t think it’s poisoned,” Tommy said.

“Do I smell almonds?” Coomer asked obliviously. 

Bubby took a whiff of the potion himself. “You’re smelling your almond-sized brain there.”

“Delicious.”

“You two are gross.” Chester deadpanned as he took a seat in the rickety chair. 

Bubby made some mocking noises before yelping in pain  from Coomer slapping him upside the head.

“Would you kindly Don’t?” the good doctor asked, slightly more subdued.

“Ugh, fine!” Bubby made a big show of rolling his eyes after fixing his glasses that had slid down his nose.

… Did Bubby even  _ have _ eyes? His glasses were opaque. Chester shook his head. Focus, Mallory.

Using console commands,  he got the laptop working , pulling up Tommy’s code and getting to work trying to fix the bugs. Benrey hung off him like a cat again. 

“This probably won’t take too long,” Chester promised. 

“It-It’s okay,” Tommy reassured him. “I can-can wait.”

“ **I** can’t!” Bubby yelled.

“Patience is a virtue, professor!” Coomer said. 

“ **_IT’S DOCTOR_ ** !”

“Just do your thing, dude,” Benrey said, leaning his head against Chester’s. Chester tried to ignore the feeling of Benrey’s skin against his. 

Chester took a moment to collect himself before he began working.

“Tommy, why do you have access to item spawning and map changes?” 

“I-I don’t know,” Tommy said. “May-Maybe because of my dad?”

“Your dad?” Chester frowned slightly. 

“Oh yeah! Your dad’s, like, the g-man!” Benrey exclaimed, removing himself from Chester.

Chester blinked. “Excuse me?”

Tommy was visibly sweating.

“Since when was that a thing?”  Chester looked at the code again.

He’d given them the ability to write their own backstories and personalities but... He hadn’t expected them to create ties to preexisting characters! Honestly, it was  kind of  fascinating. 

“You guys have gotten a lot more advanced than I thought...” He said,  unable to keep the awe from his voice.

“S-sorry, what do you mean by tha-tha-tha-that?” Tommy stuttered, not hiding the repeat in his voice.

“Well, ah, I didn’t expect you guys to write in your own character relationships,” Chester explained sheepishly. “Makes me wonder about Darnold’s code…”

“Whaddaya mean?” Benrey flopped onto Chester again, resting his head against Chester’s as he wrapped his arms around Chester’s neck.

Chester flushed a bit. “Well, I wonder what his “relationship chart” looks like, so to speak,”  he explained, trying to ignore the comforting weight of Benrey’s body against his back. 

“Huh.” Benrey hummed in thought. 

“I thi-think he likes  _ me _ ,” Tommy said.

“Who  _ doesn’t  _ like Tommy?” Bubby grunted, looking away.

“You care, professor!” Coomer cheered.

“Of course I do,” Bubby said, folding his arms. 

Chester took a moment to ponder why exactly Darnold would prefer Tommy out of all of them, aside from the fact that Tommy was incredibly kind and thoughtful, only to realize Tommy was pretty much the only person who had been nice to Darnold that he could remember. 

Ah, right. 

That provided... some context.

Chester turned his attention back to the console commands and Tommy’s code, a knot of guilt developing in his chest.  He got to work on it, ironing out all the kinks with practiced precision. 

Before long, Tommy’s code was ready to execute, and the taller man shuddered lightly, closing his eyes while his system updated.

“Alright, there we go.” Chester leaned back in his chair. “Does that feel better, Tommy?”

“Yes!” Tommy said, opening his eyes and beaming.

“So....” Benrey leaned on Chester. “You gonna try the weird potion thing?”

Chester looked back at Coomer and Bubby. Their bickering had died off and they were just talking now. Coomer had set the potion down on the desk.

“I don’t....know,” Chester admitted.  It could easily be a trap, but it was just as likely Darnold really did regret his actions.   
  
Did Chester really want to take that chance? 

“I mean, you don’t gotta if you don’t want to.” Benrey’s voice got quiet as he took Chester’s remaining hand. “I get it if you think it’s a trap or whatever.”

“It could very well be!” Coomer piped up.

“Thanks, that’s definitely helping my anxiety,” Chester muttered, absentmindedly beginning to rub his thumb over the back of Benrey’s hand. 

“I-If it helps, I  _ do  _ think he really wants to help,” Tommy said. “He’s....He’s n-not a bad person. He’s just...He was hurting. And he di-didn’t know how to deal with it.”   
  
“What do you think it’s even supposed to  _ do _ ?” Chester asked. “All the note mentioned was... something about fixing mistakes.”

“May-Maybe it’ll give you your arm back!” Tommy suggested hopefully.   
  
Chester looked down at the stub where his arm used to be. “Is that possible?”

“ _ That’s _ the thing you’re questioning?” Bubby asked incredulously. “Benrey can shapeshift and walk through things and you can both do weird color bubbles and  _ getting an arm back _ is the thing you can’t believe?”    
  
“Fair point,” Chester said sheepishly.

“Everything is weird and nothing makes sense,” Benrey said with a definitive nod. 

“Nothing is real.” Coomer’s voice dipped low as his face went blank. 

For a moment, everyone was silent. Chester felt a pang of fear. Was Coomer about to go off the deep end again?

Then Coomer smiled brightly. “Hello, Doctor Mallory!”

“ _ I...I think you should drink it _ ,” Gordon said quietly.

“You do?” Chester frowned. “Why?”

The rest of the Science Team remained silent, knowing exactly who Chester was speaking to.

_ “I... I trust him. I really think he’s trying to get better. ...I think after everything we did to him we owe it to him to trust him this once.” _

Chester chewed on his lip, looking between his stump and the potion. He  _ did  _ want to trust Darnold. He wanted to believe that Darnold was trying to fix the mistakes he’d made, the same as Chester was. 

And more importantly,  _ Gordon  _ believed that. 

And Chester wanted to trust Gordon.

“Alright,” he said, picking up the beaker. “I guess... I guess I’m gonna do this.”

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” Benrey began to chant, pounding his fists on his legs. 

Chester brought the beaker to his lips and tipped it back. 

It tasted... like brown?  This in itself wasn’t unpleasant, it was just... strange. It tasted more like sweetvoice than any actual drink Chester had ever had before. It tasted the way rich earth smelled. 

He felt the potion hit his stomach and  his stump started to throb, almost  _ burn.  _ He tensed, gritting his teeth and clutching the side of the chair so hard his knuckles began to turn white.  Tommy reached over and pulled the bandages off the stump, just in time to see the skin heal over.

“Mister Mallory! It’s healed!” He said, hope and joy welling up in his chest. “I-I think you’re going to get your arm back!”

He’d spoken too soon, however, as something that was most definitely not a flesh arm began to grow from the healed stump. And Chester began to scream.  Black, heavy metal started to sprout from where his arm had once been, as his heart pounded in his ears.

Chester felt like he had stuck his stump into hot coals. 

Everyone else in the room was panicking a little, but no one more than Benrey.

“That’s not supposed to happen,” he muttered, his hands opening and closing quickly as if he were trying to figure out what to do with them. “I...That’s not supposed to happen. Bodies don’t...Bodies don’t do that. Bodies aren’t supposed to do that.”

In the back of his head, that voice that had been a low-level hum was now a barely audible scream, filling him with a sense of fear and anxiety because  _ Gordon was hurting and he didn’t know how to fix it _ .

Benrey shook his head. No,  _ Chester  _ was hurting. This was Chester. 

Chester fell off the chair and to his knees, clutching at the newly growing appendage, which seemed to be forming into a sort of cylinder. 

“Is...Is that a gun?” Bubby leaned over the table to peer down at Chester, not daring to touch it. 

“A gu-gun arm?” Although Tommy remained concerned, a flicker of curiosity appeared in his eyes. “H-How interesting. I won-wonder how that works. The transformation of flesh to metal, fo-for starters. Bu-But also, how are the internal mechanics formed? Does-Does the gun run on gunpowder?”

“You’ll just have to study Doctor Mallory after the test,” Coomer said.    
  
When the “arm” finally finished growing, Chester was on the floor, panting as the pain finally started to subside. 

“You good?” Benrey asked, worriedly kneeling beside Chester. 

“Everything hurts,” Chester groaned.  He tried to pick up the new appendage, but his arm just fell to the ground with a loud clank.    


It was so  _ heavy _ . 

“It would probably be best if you laid down, Doctor Mallory,” Coomer suggested. “You seem rather tired.”

“Prolly...Prolly tired you out, growin’ a new arm,” Benrey mumbled, gently guiding Chester to the ground. “You...You gotta rest. Rest good.” He was already getting bigger to curl protectively around Chester, moving the man’s head against his chest.

“Rest do-does seem like a good idea,” Tommy agreed. “We’ve-We’ve been through a lot.”    
  
Chester ignored them, trying to pick the arm up again. He needed to  _ see _ it. 

“Brooooo,” Benrey whined.

Chester managed to pull the heavy metal object into his lap. He stared at it with wide, horrified eyes. 

It was a gun. He had a fucking  _ gun  _ attached to him. Had he been in a better state of mind, he might have wanted to study it. But right now, he was just horrified that it was  _ attached to him _ .

“What. The. Fuck?” He rasped, his voice hoarse from the screaming.  _ This _ was Darnold’s help??

“Do-Do you not like it?” Tommy asked. 

“It’s...a gun. Where my arm should be,” Chester said slowly. “It’s a gun arm. I have a gun arm.” He  _ didn’t  _ sound happy.  “And it  _ grew! _ It’s fucking  _ part of me! _ How is that not fucked up!”

“Better than a stump,” Bubby grumbled.

“The fuck does it even shoot? Fingernails?” Chester hoarsely continued. 

Benrey simply shushed him, patting his face and letting out a calming blue song. Chester tried to focus on the sound instead of his aching arm , but his thoughts kept turning to his new appendage .    
  
“What if this sticks when we get out? What  _ then _ ?!”  His voice began to rise in panic. “How am I supposed to function with a gun for an arm?!”

“That seems like a problem for when you get out!” Coomer said. “For now, I think it’s good you have a weapon!”

“You’re freakin’ out right now, bro. Runnin’ on adrenaline and stuff,” Benrey mumbled. “Need sleep. You’ll...You’ll feel better after sleep.”

“Right... Sleep. Sleep sounds good.” Chester muttered. Maybe he’d wake up and this would all be a crazy dream...   
  
Who was he kidding, if he was dreaming he would have woken up ages ago. 

He allowed Benrey to gently surround him, letting his eyes flutter closed.

The others laid down as well, preparing to get their own rest.


	28. Like I'm playing with a magic eight ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benrey has a conversation with his own ride-along and Chester recovers from the mystery potion

_ Benrey is sitting in front of a shattered mirror. He doesn’t recognize the mirror nor where he is. It’s all black.  _ _ Glass lays all around him, yet his reflection still stares back at him.  _ _ Except... it’s not him. Not exactly. _

_ The man staring back at him from the other side of the frame looks like a younger version of the Half Life 2 Barney model. Benrey can’t help but wonder if this is what a Half Life 1 Barney would look like with better graphics.  _

_ “Hey?” Benrey’s voice is unsure, quiet. “Can I... help you, dude?” _

_ “Help you,” the Barney repeats, the borrowed words tinged with Barney’s signature accent.  _

_ “Man, you really are a reflection huh?”  _ _ Benrey laughs weakly. “Not sure why you look like Barney, though. Modded up my model pretty heavily.”  _

_ “Reflection,” the Barney repeats. “Not...You...What are you trying to do?” _

_ Okay, that last one had been a Barney voice line.  _

_ “Whaddaya mean, man?” Benrey leans back on his hands.  _

_ “What are you trying to do?” The Barney says. “This area just doesn’t feel right.” _

_ Benrey just stares at the Barney. His brain is radio static on a good day and this is really not helping. _

_ “I don’t know what you’re trying to say, man.” _

_ The Barney’s expression doesn’t change much, but he lets out what might have been an irritated huff. _

_ “Don’t tick me off, Gordon. What are you trying to do?” _

_ “‘M not Gordon.” Benrey shakes his head. “‘M Benrey.” _

_ “‘M not...Benrey,” the Barney parrots back.  _

_ Benrey blinks. That...almost sounded coherent.  _

_ “You’re saying you’re not me?” He sits up, leaning toward the mirror frame. _

_ The Barney’s eyes seem to come alive with joy and relief, and he nods stiffly.  _

_ “Then you gotta be the real Barney, right?  _ _ ‘Cause...like... I was playin’ Blue Shift when...everythin’ went down... _ _ ” Benery muses aloud.  _ _ “Maybe I got the same thing as Chester goin’ on...” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I guess so,” the Barney tilts his head. “Don’t ask me.” _

_ “Guess I took over your body like Chester did with Gordo’s. Uh...Sorry ‘bout that.” Benrey smiles sheepishly.  _

_ At the mention of Gordon, the Barney’s eyes go wide. _

_ “Gordon!” He says, a smile breaking his previously static features. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Oh...You miss him, don’t you?”  _

_ The Barney’s smile falls and he simply nods.  _

_ “You guys’re supposed to be friends, right?” Benrey scoots a bit closer to the mirror frame, still seated on the ground. _

_ “Friends...” The Barney says quietly. “Hey, catch me later, I’ll buy you a beer.” _

_ Benrey’s never heard the line delivered in such a defeated tone. He doesn’t remember much about Half Life lore, but he doesn’t think Barney ever got to buy Gordon that beer. _

_ “Well...Uh...when me and Ches get out...You can hang out with Gordon all you want.” Benrey gives what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “He’ll be really happy to see you. I know he will.” _

_ “Gordon! Man, am I glad to see you!” The Barney, no... just Barney, sounds a bit more hopeful at the reassurance. _

_ Benrey reaches towards the mirror, meaning to offer the other a comforting pat on the shoulder.  _ _ Barney jerks violently, as if unused to the contact - and he might be.  _

_ “Uh, sorry.”  _ _ Benrey draws back. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I don’t think so.” Barney retorts quietly in an attempt at reassurance, expression soft. _

_ “Yeah, that’s fair.” Benrey sits back down. “Wonder why you’re all aware now, though. I’ve been in here, like, two years.” _

_ “Don’t ask me.” Barney shrugs. _

_ “Hmmm.” Benrey briefly screws up his face in thought, although quickly abandons it. “Eh, it doesn’t matter. You’re aware  _ **_now_ ** _ and that’s the important part. So, we’re gonna get you out!” He nods definitively. “And Chester can fix your code so you can say other stuff!” _

_ He doesn’t know for sure if Chester can do this, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to wholeheartedly believe it. Because Chester is the coolest and can do magic code stuff. _

_ Barney smiles faintly. “Okay, we might live longer if we work together.”  _

_ “... It’s like I’m playing with a magic eight ball…” Benrey mutters, and Barney makes an offended noise.  _ _ Benrey can’t help but start laughing at this. He wonders if Barney will ever be able to talk the way Gordon does.  _

_ Some part of him is excited by that. The opportunity to freely converse with Barney Calhoun.  _

_ Barney has always been Branden’s favorite character. _

_ He quickly shakes his head, unsure where that thought came from.  _

_ "Trying," Barney says, parroting a word Benrey said earlier. _

_ “Yeah, I know you are.” Benrey leans against the frame. “‘M sorry. ‘M not real good at conversation either.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Barney seems to get an idea, his eyes lighting up. He raises his hands and makes a few gestures. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Benrey squints at him, confused.  _ _ And there, Barney deflates with a little  _ pbbbbbt  _ of his lips.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I can’t take much more of this,” the NPC mumbles, clearly growing frustrated.  _

_ “We’ll figure it out,” Benrey assures him, stifling a yawn. “Right now though...Kinda...kinda wanna sleep.” _

_ Barney gives him an incredulous look and gestures at the scene around them, as if to say “you’re already sleeping dipshit.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Oh, right. Dream. Forgot.”  _ _ Benrey laughs sheepishly. _

_ Barney sighs heavily and shakes his head. What a partnership this is going to be.  _

=0=

Benrey was the second to last to wake up. Chester was still sleeping, with Benrey still wrapped protectively around him. Internally, Benrey breathed a bit of a sigh of relief. If Chester was still all wrapped up, he couldn’t hurt himself. 

Bubby, Coomer, and Tommy were sitting in the middle of the room talking amongst each other. Tommy was rambling off theories about the inner workings of Chester’s new gun arm while Coomer chimed in every so often to offer his own experience with cybernetic limbs.    
  
Chester was sweating and shivering in his sleep, like he had a fever.  Benery pressed a hand to Chester’s forehead past the helmet, and man he was burning up. Then again, Benrey himself tended to run cold.   
  
“Hey, guys?” Benrey tried to get the others’ attention. 

Tommy looked over, but Bubby and Coomer seemed to decide that they wanted to argue more.  It was unclear what exactly they were arguing about, but they seemed to be having a good time. Tommy got up and walked over.

“He’s...He’s burning up,” Benrey said, pointing at Chester. 

“O-Oh, dear.” Tommy frowned. “That’s-That’s not good.”

Tommy felt his forehead as well,  frowning when he felt how warm Chester’s skin was.

“That’s bad, right?” Benrey asked, looking frantically between Chester and Tommy.

“A li-little,” Tommy conceded. “But I-I’m sure it’ll go away. We-We just have to give it some time.”

It was probably best to just let the poor guy sleep...

As much as it pained Benrey, he settled down again, still trying to keep Chester wrapped up. 

“He-He’ll be alright,” Tommy assured him. 

And he was right. It took a few hours, but Chester’s fever eventually broke and he woke up. He still looked awful, but then again so did the rest of them.

Upon awakening, Chester took one look at his gun arm and groaned loudly. 

“I was hoping it was just a fever dream or something,” he grumbled, sitting up. 

“You feeling okay, Ches?” Benrey asked in concern. “You had, like, a real bad fever.”

“Sweaty. Thirsty.” Chester croaked.    
  
“We should bring him sodas!” Coomer cheered, throwing some empty cans at Benrey and Chester, causing Benrey to hiss at him.   
  
“Pick up that can!” Bubby barked. Coomer picked one up. “Now put it in the trash-”   
  
The man got beaned in the head with the empty can. “No need to repeat jokes!”

Chester stifled a laugh as he got up, with Benrey hovering worriedly behind him. Tommy politely handed him a soda, which Chester all but inhaled. 

“We should probably get a move on,” he suggested once he’d finished. 

“You sure you’re good?” Benrey asked. 

“I’m fine,” Chester assured him with a weary smile.  He pulled himself to his feet a little shakily, leaning heavily against a nearby table. “Let's get going, we’re not far from the end.” 

Benrey made a concerned noise, which Chester responded to with another comforting smile. Benrey backed off a bit.

“We-We’ll go slow for you, Mr. Mallory,” Tommy said. 

“No man left behind!” Coomer said brightly. “Except if you die!”

Chester laughed as they began to exit the lab. “Let's try to avoid that.”    



	29. We're getting close to the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forzen gets tired of waiting and decides to force a confrontation

Forzen was angry. Angrier than usual. Which meant that Darnold was terrified. More terrified than usual.

“Why are they TAKING so long!” The chatbot whined, stamping his foot. “It’s been  _ DAYS _ !”

Darnold shivered. He deeply hoped that the team had trusted his note.  He didn’t know how much longer he could keep Forzen occupied.

“I-I’m sure they’ll be here soon,” he tried to reassure Forzen. “They can’t exactly go anywhere without passing us.”

“But it’s taking  _ forever _ !”  Forzen borderline screamed. “Why do they keep  _ sleeping?!” _

Darnold genuinely was not sure how to respond to that. He wanted to say that it was because humans needed to sleep, but he was worried Forzen would view such a comment negatively. So, he said nothing. 

This only seemed to anger Forzen even more.

“Well?!” Forzen rounded on him.

“Well?” Darnold repeated meekly.

“Why do they keep sleeping?!” Forzen demanded.   


“I... Do you want me to answer that?”

“Kind of. It’s getting annoying!” The chatbot snapped. 

Darnold took another shaky breath.  “Well. Humans....need to sleep. If they don’t for long enough, they die.”

“But why?! That’s so stupid!” Forzen stamped his foot again.

“They-They just do! Especially when they-they-they’ve been hurt badly and need to recover.” Darnold attempted to explain.

“They ain’t hurt  _ that  _ bad!”  Forzen whined. “Why won’t they just come already?”   
  
Darnold paused. “... The arm?”

“What about it?”

“It… It means that Doctor Freeman needs to sleep more than normal. Because he’s missing his arm. And his body is spending a lot of energy to try and fix it.”

“So what?”

Darnold was beginning to get frustrated.  Forzen fundamentally did not understand humans, and he didn’t know if this was a problem he could conceivably fix in the time it would take for Chester and his team to reach them. It seemed everything he said went in one ear and out the other.

“You hurt him so his body is trying to fix it. Sleep is a way to make healing faster.”

“Whatever.” Forzen huffed and rolled his eyes. “ Can’t you do somethin? Make ‘em hurry it up?” 

“Well...the...the potion I left...might speed them up?” Darnold said slowly.

He was torn between being terrified and finding this situation absolutely absurd. If he started laughing, Forzen would almost certainly kill him. But this was just so ridiculous.   
  
Forzen grumbled to himself, “I’m gonna go check on them.” And with that, he vanished. 

Darnold breathed a sigh of relief he hadn’t known he’d been holding in. He crumpled to the ground, hugging his knees as he began to cry. He wanted this to be over already. He was so tired of being afraid all the time.

=0=

Forzen stood just out of bounds, watching them.  Everything about them made his blood boil. Not that he had blood. But it tore him apart to see them laughing with Chester, see them being so...  _ close _ . 

That should be him!  _ He  _ should be the one laughing with Chester! Chester was  **his** friend!  It took everything he had not to go down there and tear them limb from limb, to go down there and take what was  _ his.  _ But he had to be careful. Especially after whatever that old man scientist had done to him.

Still...He watched them with gritted teeth, hands forming fists at his sides. At least the other player was the only one who kept touching Chester. If one of those damn replacements had been touching Chester that much... Forzen wouldn’t have been able to control himself.  He was barely able to restrain himself as it was.

It looked like Chester had gotten his arm fixed, which probably meant that Darnold was talking a bunch of horseshit. Bastard. It was some weird black metal thing now. That was probably normal. There was black all over the suit thing, after all.  
  
The group rounded a corner and was faced with a group of headcrabs. It was kind of impressive how many of the little bastards there still were around. Chester pointed the metal arm thing at them without grabbing a gun or anything and-  
  
Oh shit, was the metal the gun? Chester winced in pain and clutched at the metal, tears forming in his eyes. Forzen could see them even from where he was standing. Good, it better fuckin’ hurt after everything he did to Forzen. The soldier model’s eyes narrowed darkly as the others joined in on the fight as well, calling out to Chester.  
  
Why weren’t they broken still? Had Darnold’s thing worn off? Stupid. He’d tell him off about it when he got back. Stupid AI couldn’t even get _that_ right. But that was what he got for trusting a replacement. Glitchy little bug nest. Stupid idiot algorithm. Probably still trying to save his dumb little replacement buddies.  
  
Forzen was going to show them all who the superior AI was.

=0=

Chester still wasn’t having a super great time, but he was definitely feeling a bit better now. Minus the fact that firing his new arm gun hurt like Hell, that was. Still, they were moving forward and making progress and he was going to focus on that.  He wasn’t bleeding out anymore, at least. He had to focus on the bright side. 

“We’re getting close to the end,” he announced to the others.   


“You’ve been saying that for the past two days!” Bubby argued. 

Chester resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Well, we’re closer than we were before.”

“Dunno if it’s been two days,” Benrey said. “Can’t really tell time in here.”

“Tha-That’s true! The clocks don’t work!” Tommy agreed, lighting up a bit. “O-Or they  _ do _ , but not the way they’re  _ supposed  _ to. I-It’s really interesting.”

“Yeah...Interesting...” Benrey ‘s smile dropped a bit, drawing into himself. 

Chester frowned, falling back to walk beside Benrey. “You alright?” He asked softly.

“‘M fine,” Benrey assured him with a small smile.    
  
Chester placed a hand on Benrey’s shoulder. “We’ll find a way out, I’m sure of it.” 

Benrey’s smile grew, a few bubbles of pink and blue slipping out of his mouth. Tommy glanced back, and upon seeing the bubbles he too smiled. However, his smile was one of mischievous glee. 

“Pink to blue means ‘I lo-” He began, only to be drowned out by Benrey screaming sweetvoice at him. 

“I didn’t know you could weaponize that shit! Why didn’t you do that sooner?” Bubby demanded as Benrey chased Tommy around the room. 

Tommy didn’t seem particularly bothered by this, continuing to grin while holding up his lab coat as a shield. It was starting to look like he’d been in a paintball fight.    
  
Chester snorted. “You really know how to brighten the mood.”

“Ah, youth,” Coomer sighed wistfully. 

“He should’ve weaponized this sweetvoice thing sooner,” Bubby grumbled.

“Can we just keep going, please?” Benrey begged once he’d gotten tired of chasing Tommy around.

“We only have four hours until we reach the Lambda Lab!” Coomer chirped.

“Pretty sure it’s not  _ that  _ much longer.” Chester corrected.

“We only have ten hours until we reach the Lambda Lab!”

Chester elected not to question this. It was better for his sanity that way.    
  
He was pulled from his thoughts, by a loud booming voice.    
  
“‘BOUT FUCKIN TIME!”

The imitation of Benrey made Chester’s joints lock up in terror, an automatic response after the _ last _ time.

And there, looking down at them from atop a shipping container , was Forzen, directing a murderous glare their way and looking ready to punch someone’s lights out.

Almost immediately, Benrey put himself between Chester and Forzen, growling and making himself larger. 

“Doctor Mallory, I am ready to Punch The Bitch!” Coomer proclaimed, also stepping forward. Tommy followed suit, the two of them flanking Benrey to back him up.

Forzen laughed. “You dudes are funny, that’s real cute. Think you can beat me with just the five of ya? You needed all those stupid clones last time!”

“Mister Coomer do-doesn’t need clones to kick your ass! And I don’t need clones to shoot you between the eyes!” Tommy barked.

“Psh. Yeah, I’m real scared.” Forzen scoffed.  “All you gotta do is hand over Ches, dudes. S’not that hard.  Give him up and maybe I won’t rip your stupid code to shreds. ”

“He doesn’t  _ want  _ to go with you!” Tommy’s expression darkened. “Wh-Why won’t you just  _ listen _ ?!”

“Why  _ should  _ I listen to you losers?!” Forzen folded his arms with a childish pout.  “You don’t know Ches like I do!”

“You don’t know him at all!” Benrey roared. “You’re just obsessed with some version of him you used to know!”    
  
“You’ve only known him for like a week! I spent every day with him for years! You don’t know  _ anything!! _ ”  The more Forzen yelled, the more he sounded like a child throwing a tantrum. 

“This is getting us nowhere!” Bubby threw his hands up. “Let’s just kick his ass already!”

Forzen’s lip curled in a snarl. Then he reached out and... the world around him seemed to bend. And suddenly Darnold was in front of him, Forzen’s hand on his shoulder. 

Darnold looked around wildly, clearly not having expected this. “Wha- How-?”

“Do something,” Forzen said, pointing at the Science Team. “Mess them up again.”   
  
“I can’t just-”    
  
“And why the fuck  _ not _ ?” Forzen interrupted. “It took you like five seconds last time, just reach in there and fuck em up!”    
  
Darnold tried to stammer out a response and Forzen rolled his eyes. “Useless replacement,” he grumbled, taking Darnold by the shoulder again and roughly pushing him to the side. “I’ll just do it  _ myself. _ ”   
  
He jumped down, the ground underneath him shaking as he landed. 

As soon as Forzen straightened up, Tommy sent a bullet right between the rogue AI's eyes. 


	30. Why are you making this so hard?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight breaks out and Darnold decides he's had enough

Forzen didn’t even flinch. “Wow, rude.”

“So...bullets don’t work on him...” Benrey said. “That’s...cool...”

“If by ‘cool’ you mean absolutely fucking terrifying!” Bubby yelled. “That’s not right!”

The chatbot  seemed to swish something around in his mouth, then spat the bullet out at their feet.  It bounced once with a clink before rolling to stop against Chester’s foot. It was slightly dented, but completely whole.  Chester looked up and the hole in his forehead was already closing.

“I thought you bastards had more fight in you than  _ that _ ,” Forzen scoffed , cracking his knuckles.  He looked at Tommy, smirking. “You. Uh... Tammy. You wanna go first?”

“It’s Tommy,” Tommy said, irritation and fear warring on his face.   
  
“Taffy, whatever. ” Forzen waved a hand dismissively. “You gonna ditch the stupid gun an’ fight me for Ches or what?”

“I will!” Benrey announced before anyone else could say anything before promptly launching himself at Forzen.

“Benrey, no!” Chester yelled, starting to run forward. He was barred by Tommy, who had put himself between Chester and the fight. 

“Yo-You’re in no shape for hand to hand combat,” Tommy said quietly. “And neither-neither am I. We need to stay out of this.”

“But Benrey!” Chester gestured at Benrey.

To his credit, Benrey was putting up a good fight. He was utilizing his ability to change his model to bridge the size gap and avoid getting hit. He was crafty. But Forzen had raw physical strength on his side. When he hit, he hit  _ hard _ . And he’d hit Benrey more than once at this point.

“Hey! Get your hands off of him!” Bubby yelled. 

Forzen looked up to gloat, only to get a punch squarely to the jaw from Coomer. This punch sent Forzen literally flying. He hit a wall, leaving a crater around him. But he got up with nary a scratch.

“Seriously? That’s it?” He whined. “Thought you guys’d give me a better fight.”

Meanwhile, Chester was crouching at Benrey’s side, quietly asking him if he was alright. Forzen’s hands formed fists at his sides. Why? Why did Chester care so much about these fakes? He was so much better!  He knew Chester so much better, all the ins and outs of him! They had no right to steal him away!

The old Einstein guy looked ready for more, fists readied and bouncing in place. 

“I’m not the founder of the Black Mesa Underground Boxing Ring for nothing!” He crowed, and Forzen rolled his eyes. The other old guy positioned himself so his back was facing the Einstein, fingers poised to snap.

“Can you take a little fire?”   
  
_ Snap _ .   
  
Forzen was set ablaze, staring at the inferior copies through a storm of orange and red.   
  
Forzen  _ roared _ , shoving the other AIs away from him. “Fuckin CHEATERS!”

“Oh dear,” he heard Darnold mumble and there was the sound of frantic footsteps going away from him.

“How’s it cheating?” The other player croaked from where Chester was holding him. 

“It just is!” Forzen stamped his foot. “It’s not fair! It’s not fair it’s not fair it’s not fair!” He kept stamping his foot, waving his fists about like a child throwing a tantrum. “ **_I’m_ ** his best friend! Why does he care about you losers so much?!  He’s supposed to be  **_MINE!_ ** ”

Forzen lunged for the nearest person,  wrapping his hands around Tommy's neck.  “Just hand him over you bastards! I just want things to go back to normal! Why are you making this so hard?!” 

Up until this point, Darnold had been trying to stay away from the fighting. He wasn’t a combatant, he knew that perfectly well. If he tried to intervene, he knew he’d be destroyed. 

But seeing Forzen with his hands on Tommy’s neck... 

His legs almost seemed to move on their own, carrying him toward the scene. His heart pounded in his ears. A voice in the back of his head screamed that Forzen would kill him for this.

“Leave him alone!” He yelled and suddenly his fist was connecting with the side of Forzen’s face.   


It was enough to get Forzen off of Tommy at the very least.  Forzen stumbled back,  more out of surprise than anything else . He looked down at Darnold, his expression dark. Everything felt like it was frozen, as Darnold stood there, unable to move.  Forzen was almost perfectly still, his whole body tensed like a predator preparing to pounce. Everyone in the room could feel the rage contained in his subtly shaking form. They all seemed to be holding their breath. All but Forzen.    
  
Forzen reached out and grabbed his shoulder with so much force Darnold could feel the bones starting to crack.

“You gonna fuckin’ backstab me too? Darnold gonna abandon me too?” Forzen growled, eye narrowing and flashing darkly. 

Darnold swallowed thickly. “I-I-I can’t in good conscience let you hurt them anymore,” he shot back, wishing his voice wasn’t shaking as much as it was. “I’ve… I’ve been complicit for long enough!”   
  
Forzen smirked,  although it honestly looked more like a baring of teeth than anything that could remotely have been recognized as a smile . “Shoulda known you were gonna, you’re just like the rest of those replacements. Weak and useless. I think it’s time for  _ you _ to have a time out.” 

The chatbot lifted him into the air and chucked him at the nearest wall.  Darnold hit the wall with a strangled gasp, the wind having been knocked out of him, before falling to the ground in a heap. 

“Stop!” Tommy screamed, finally forcing himself to act. “Leave him alone!” His eyes began to glow as the air around him began to ripple. 

Forzen turned to Tommy,  looking distinctly unimpressed . Tommy spread his hands sharply, and a hole opened under Forzen, dropping him through the ground and out of the map.

"... Holy shit, Tommy," Bubby muttered.

“Fine work, Doctor Coolatta!” Coomer clapped Tommy on the back.

“Th-Thanks,” Tommy mumbled before running over to check on Darnold.

“Are-Are you alright?” He asked as he knelt beside the other man.

“I’ve been better.” Darnold managed a weak smile. “Everything kinda... hurts.”

“Gettin’ thrown into a wall is real sucks,” Benrey said from where Chester was still holding him. “Really hurts. Not fun. 0/10. Would not recommend.”

Darnold winced and managed to pop his back, hissing in pain when it didn't help. 

"It's… nothing a respawn won't fix, heh," he tried to wave off. The potion master turned to the scientist in yellow. "How exactly did you  _ do  _ that, by the by?"

Tommy fidgeted with his hands. "Ah, i-it's kind of a long story?"

"How serendipitous! It is only an eighteen-hour walk to the Lambda Lab, Tommy!" Coomer interjected. Tommy gave him a worried look.

"We're much closer than that, and you know it," Bubby groused, prompting Coomer to get a knowing, mischievous look on his face.

“Well, uh, if we’re almost there maybe we should just make a last push to get there?” Chester suggested, getting to his feet. Benrey stood with him, wincing a bit as he did.

"Lovely idea, Doctor! Let's resume our walk!"  Coomer then began to immediately powerwalk away, prompting several indignant and panicked cries for him to slow down.  Cue Coomer careening into a trip and crashing to the ground with a comical cymbal clap.  Bubby was at his side in moments, dragging him up his feet.

And so the group continued on.


End file.
